


The PhaseWalker: Alive Again

by MultiverseFantasy



Series: The Phasewalker Saga [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Death, Demons, Gen, Grim Reapers, Magic, Monsters, Superheroes, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MultiverseFantasy/pseuds/MultiverseFantasy
Summary: Troy Anderson was having a perfectly average day until his best friend Jackson White arrived on his doorstep. Unfortunately Jackson wasn't the same person from school. He was the Grim Reaper now. Only he hasn't quite got the hang of this new job yet, which could put both his friends and his home in great danger.The Second part in the Supernatural Superhero Saga
Series: The Phasewalker Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080251





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.patreon.com/PWPresents

1

The countryside was quiet that Monday afternoon. A gentle breeze cut through the trees and across the green fields as the warm summer heat covered everything like a blanket. The calm reflective water glistened in the canal as it weaved through the landscape, interrupted at regular intervals by sturdy wooden locks designed to cart its path downhill. Ducks and swans happily swan down this watery pathway, minding their own business, greeting the small flock of geese that hung out beside one of the many bridges that crossed over this canal. Either side of the water, cows and horses dotted the fields between farms and woodland. The dual carriageway could be heard in the distance as cars sped through the blissful country without a care. Within the fields, a small road weaved through the green, cutting through a farm and past a car park that served the local bar/club called " _Man's Former Nest_ ". The punters never liked the name, so they just called it _The Nest_. The building sat on one side of the canal. Mirroring it on the other was a farm with a building under construction, a work in progress going back years. If you followed the road further in this direction you would come across a pair of buildings hidden away behind some bushes. Nice and secluded. Quiet. Just as the occupants liked it.

One of those occupants was a young man named Troy Anderson. He was a big bloke, broad shouldered with a square shaped head with a neat flat topped haircut. His beard covered the underside of his large chin and rose to join his sideburns. Today he was wearing loose fitting shorts and a t-shirt with socks on his feet. He rubbed between his eyes, the spot where he wore his glasses which had been put down on the dining table. He walked over to the door leading to the garage, where he was greeted by the happy barks of his Alsatian dogs. He shooed them aside so he could open the fridge and retrieve the bags holding their dinner, blood soaked meat which he could mix with the nutritious dog food in the kitchen. They followed him back and waited impatiently to be fed. He measured out the bowls and led them outside into the large backyard, placing the bowls down watching them dig in hungrily. He couldn't help but smile. He loved his dogs.

Walking back into the house he shut the back door, cleaning up the kitchen and retracing his steps to check on the puppies, caged in the garage so they couldn't tear up the furniture. He just put away the leftover food and equipment when there was a loud ring from the doorbell. All the dogs started barking in response, as if Troy was incapable of hearing it on his own. "Every time" he sighed, a painful reminder of all the early mornings he'd suffered because of this wake up call. He shut the garage door and headed to the front door, seeing the silhouette of whoever was paying him a visit.

_He wasn't expecting anyone. Who could this be?_

The door handle turned and unlocked the door. As soon as it cracked open he was met with a disturbing smell, like a disgusting blend of vomit and sewage. His nose recoiled and he fought the urge to thrown up on the spot. "What the fuck…?" he grimaced throwing open the door, only to be met with a figure slumped against his wall, covered head to toe in gunk, sludge and gloop that he couldn't begin to describe. It was like he'd been dunked in tar, then in slime, then rolled through a slaughterhouse. It looked horrible. The figure covered in it stood strangely, wavering on exhaustion. The clothes he wore were stained and soaking. His dark hair was sticky and matted. The glasses he wore were askew and greased with slime. In his right hand he held what appeared to be a silver sabre, the sword dripping with more blood and slime. Around his feet a puddle formed giving the illusion he was melting.

Troy stared at the figure as he hunched his shoulders, offering him a pleasant smile. "Hey mate" Jackson said. "Surprise. Any chance I could come in? You would not believe the week I've had."

And hour or so later, Troy was sitting in the dining room pouring his second can of Stella into a glass while he waited for his best friend to join him. It took some convincing to let him walk into his house covered in that mess, instead bringing him around the side to remove his clothes and immediately sending him upstairs for a shower. He dumped the soaking outfit into the nearest dustbin and hosed down the yard. He almost set fire to the bloody lot. Jack seemed grateful to get out of the sludge. He placed the sword beside the back door. _What was he doing with a sword?_

Jackson White and Troy Anderson go way back. All the way back to primary school. They've been best friends for as long as either of them can remember. Neither could recall exactly how they met. They were just virtually inseparable, even as they both transferred to the same secondary school. By sixth-form their paths started to diverge into different career paths. Troy was still trying to work out how to define his career. He enjoyed this dog-breeding hobby he did with his parents. Toyed with construction. Jackson was more the artist. He figured out he wanted to be an animator since he started secondary school. He went off to university two years ago, but commuted from home so they could still hang out every so often. Then he had the accident.

Everybody called it the _accident_ in his house. Jack had been stabbed a few weeks ago. It was all over the news and social media. And then his university suffered some kind of terrorist attack. Troy read about it the day after. He couldn't make sense of anything he was hearing or reading. The news channels were all over it, claiming the apocalypse had begun or something. A lot of people died, but most of them survived. He tried to find out about Jack afterwards, only to be met with radio silence. He wouldn't answer his calls or texts. His Facebook profile was virtually dead. Jack was never a fan of broadcasting things on the internet so that wasn't a surprise. But he wouldn't, or couldn't, pick up the phone and answer his best friend? Troy convinced himself his injuries were more severe or that he'd been killed. Nobody had seen him. He considered calling his family but decided, if it was bad, they'd want to be alone.

And now he was standing right in front of him, dressed in some of Troy's spare clothes that were more his size, drying himself off with a towel. The hoodie was a size too big and the jeans were baggy, but the t-shirt fit. He replaced the glasses onto his face, wiping them clean, and looked back at the larger boy at the table. "Thanks" he said sheepishly, taking a seat.

Troy put on his own glasses and studied the young man. He seemed fine, for a presumed dead man. He was glad to see him, but he felt angry he never called. "Good to see you mate" he said, realising his tone wasn't welcoming.

Jack picked up on it and took a deep breath. "I should've called first, huh?"

He didn't say anything.

Jack looked around the room, scanning the walls and peeking through the doorways. "Where's everyone else?"

"Out" he said flatly. "Work. Dogs are outside." He waited for his gaze to return to the table before addressing the elephant in the room. "What happened to you?"

"You mean today?" he asked nervously.

"The accident" he clarified. Jack furrowed his brow until Troy explained "I heard through Facebook you were attacked in Derby a few weeks ago. Everyone thought you had died."

"I did" he muttered. At least it sounded like that's what he said. Troy was about to ask what he meant, but Jack seemed to sense the question and looked up at him. "Yeah, I…um…it's complicated. I'm sorry I didn't get in touch sooner."

"So what happened?" He asked him, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms.

"I'm not sure where to begin" Jack replied reluctantly. "It's…complicated."

"You already said that" Troy said, starting to get a lot more irritated. Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He always got like this when he came around. He had something he wanted to say, the real reason he came around to visit. Troy was one of the only people in his life he trusted to basically spill his soul to. The last time the two of them sat down for a heart to heart it took Jack almost three hours to admit he was falling in love with a girl he'd met at university. How long was it going to take to drag out today's confession? "So what brings you around here now?"

He shrugged. "I was in the neighbourhood?" That answer wasn't going to satisfy anybody. Jack took a deep breath and sighed. "I needed to talk to someone. Someone who wasn't my therapist."

"You're in therapy?" Troy asked in shock.

"Well, so would you be if you'd been stabbed in an alley by a psychopathic graphic designer" he replied defensively. Troy quickly put his hands up in a show of surrender as he bit his head off. He'd been in therapy too, for different reasons, so he understood where he was coming from. It's not something many people are proud to admit. Jack calmed down and sighed. "I'm sorry. It's been a day. And a week."

"I'd say it's been a month" Troy said standing up. He offered to get him a drink, which he declined. "So how have you been, since the accident?"

"Accident" he muttered, a sour look on his face. "Everyone keeps calling it an accident. It's almost as bad as the way everyone keeps calling the attack on the university the "incident". You have no idea how messed up things got over there. People died and shit hit the fan and everyone just sweeps it under the rug and pretends everything's okay. "Just move on and forget it ever happened" they say. You try and forget seeing all those dead bodies and smelling the fire and…"

He came to a stop after a minute, closing his eyes looking really tired suddenly. Troy finished pouring himself a glass and returned to the table. But along the way he did the math in his head from the information he had been given. "Wait a minute, you were there at the university when it happened?" He asked.

"Might've been. So?" He replied.

Now Troy was confused. "I thought you were in a coma after the ac… after you were stabbed?"

"Yeah."

"But I thought you didn't wake up until a day after the incident?" He finished.

Jack thought about it a minute before his eyes suddenly went wide. "Oh" he said. "I got ahead of myself didn't I? Well, it's… like I said…"

"It's complicated" Troy scowled. "Jack. We've been friends for years. You know you can trust me. So whatever it is, you can tell me. I getting sick of running around in circles like this. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes" he replied. But then he followed up by slumping his shoulders and adding "but I'm not sure if you'll believe me."

He sat back and straightened up, staring across the table obediently. "Try me."

Jack remained unconvinced, shuffling in his seat. "Well, I was in a coma. But I was also at the university when it was invaded."

"Invaded?" He nodded. "Invaded by who?"

"Demons from Hell" he said reluctantly. "They were led by a Dark Lord called Marchosias, a nasty wolf hybrid who could breathe fire. He wanted to conquer the mortal realm and destroy all humanity and enlisted Zachery Helmsley to open the breach between Limbo and here so he could bring his forces over. I was there to help stop them and close the portal. It was a mess."

Troy listened, immediately deducing Jack must've been dreaming while he was in a coma. But he didn't say anything just yet. Just let Jack keep talking. But he did indulge with one question. "So how did you stop this "Dark Lord"?"

Jack looked up at him suspiciously. "I don't believe me do you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Come on. Even I wouldn't believe me. Just like I wouldn't believe that when I died I was brought into the Well of Souls and appointed its next champion to protect the mortal world." He chuckled quietly to himself. "Like some supernatural Superman."

Troy took a deep breath, reserving the right to call the hospital and give him a psychiatric evaluation. Maybe Jack was having a mental breakdown after the accident. It would be understandable he supposed. But he came around here to talk so that what he needed to let him do. "I'm listening mate. No judgement. Just tell me what happened and what brought you down here."

Jack still looked at him suspiciously. But he took the opportunity to clear his conscience and took a deep breath. "I really was in the neighbourhood Troy" he began nervously. "But it's a long story. The short version is, when I died in that alley I became the next Grim Reaper. And it all went downhill from there."


	2. Chapter 2

2

I guess I'll start from the beginning.

A few weeks ago I was involved in what you call the "Accident". But believe me Troy, that was no accident. It was a targeted attack by a guy called Zachery Helmsley. He was a crazy, demented graphic designer I met at university. He always had an obsession with the occult, but I didn't think he was any more dangerous than the rest of the students up there. I didn't even realise he was the one who stabbed me until later. Not until after I found out he was helping an army of demons invade the mortal world. He killed a lot of people in order to open the portal for them to cross over, after which he was given even more power to keep killing.

But I'm getting ahead of myself again. All I remember about the "accident" is I was walking back to the bus station, after… after seeing someone home. I heard a noise in the alley, went to investigate, and then was jumped by Zac. He had a hood up, hiding in the shadows, so I didn't know it was him. He stabbed me in the chest, left me to die. And I did. I died Troy. I really died.

Then I woke up in Limbo. It's also known as the Nexus. It's like the space between dimensions, works like the border to the different realms, like a buffer. All I know for sure is when we die, that's where our souls go. They sort of phase out of our bodies into this dimension, to then be guided by entities called wraiths to a place called the Well of Souls. They are also your protectors, because within Limbo are also other creatures called the Soulless. They are the remnants of souls trapped within Limbo, husks hungering for fresh souls. They almost ate me on the way to the Well, but I survived. Somehow my body was resurrected while my soul was separated, making me a remnant. I was a walking radioactive bomb in the afterlife. The Soulless couldn't kill me. The Judges couldn't send me to either Heaven or Hell. I was stuck in Limbo.

That's when I found out about the multiverse. The afterlife is more than just Heaven and Hell. It's connected to everything. The afterlife is the multiverse. There are realms out there aside from ours which house demons, angels, thousands of entities, hundreds of parallel worlds, millions of dimensions… It's infinite Troy. The multiverse exists and we cannot even begin to understand how big it is. And the Well of Souls sits at the centre of it. The centre of creation. If the Court of Judges decides your life is worthy, your soul will be cast back into the Well to be reborn again. Maybe reborn on earth, or another earth, or another dimension. There are three outcomes to being judged. Rebirth. Sent to Hell. Or set adrift into Limbo to wander for all eternity. I couldn't be judged, but they couldn't take the chance of me being a bigger threat. They tried to throw me into Oblivion, the void of nothingness where everything ceases to exist. But the Well saved me.

Let me go back again. The Well of Souls sits at the centre of the multiverse, but it's also a cosmic force. It's a sentient force of nature, almost like a god. More than a god. I'm still learning the full extent of it's…of _her_ purpose. It seems that she's the one responsible for bringing me back from the dead, putting me into a coma, keeping me alive. It turns out that I've been chosen to be its champion.

When I got the Well, I met some people. Good people. I met the Angel of Death, Azrael. He's a bit rough around the edges. Tell a lie, he's scary as hell. He's like if Kratos got a job guarding a fortress. He didn't trust me at first. Thought I was a danger to the Well. Took some convincing. Then there was Freya. She's another angel. Younger, pretty, smart and a badass. She's pretty much the first friend I made in the afterlife. The only one who hasn't tried to kill me anyway. I guess we kind of hit it off when we met. Anyway, that wasn't the most bizarre meeting I had. Because I also met Marcus Blake, who was actually the Grim Reaper.

See, the Grim Reaper is just the title people have come to call the Champion of the Well of Souls. The Phasewalker. The only being in creation capable of crossing the boundaries between realms at will. The Reapers are immortal, virtually all powerful. Or so I'm told. When I met Marcus, he was dying. So either the immortality is an exaggeration, or there's something more powerful than him. Apparently Reapers are usually chosen by their successor to replace whichever person is running as the champion. Because he was dying, Marcus couldn't chose his successor. But the Well chose me to take his place. Not everyone was on board, including me. But then Derby was invaded and we needed to stop Marchosias, the Demon who was leading the army, and Zac. My friends were in danger, so I couldn't just leave them to die. I fought Zac and Marchosias. It turned out I had been chosen to replace Marcus. So after he died, I became the new Grim Reaper.

Of course, I still have a lot to learn. It's not like I just jumped in at the deep end and started acting like a badass. The truth is it was blind luck I didn't get myself killed back in Derby. So after Marcus died I went back to my body and was able to reunite my soul with it. Usually Reapers have only been deceased mortals, people who've crossed over after death. It makes the transition easier supposedly. But I wasn't dead. I guess that makes me the first living reaper in history. Anyway, things had to be done. When I woke up from a coma the doctors needed to check me over, make sure I had no long term brain damage. They thought it was a miracle I was alive at all. My family… Christ, my parents were beside themselves. They thought they'd lost me for good. I thought I'd never see them again.

A few of my friends from university came to see me. It was awkward. I know a few of them saw me while I was fighting Zac. They saw me save them while I was supposed to be in a coma. Nobody said anything though. Doctors ushered them out within five minutes. I went home as soon as I was discharged to avoid trying to explain what happened. It seemed better if I didn't. When I got home I was assigned a therapist, which I thought would be ideal to see to begin with. Pretend everything was fine. I was fine. Avoid suspicion. I couldn't tell anyone I was the new Phasewalker, the living embodiment of death. Couldn't tell my friends, my family, or my doctor. After a few days everything just carried on as normal.

Jack looked up at Troy, searching for any signs of doubt. "You don't believe a word I'm saying, do you?"

"I'm reserving judgement" Troy said with caution. "But let's say this is true. Why do you have a sword and not a scythe? And why are you telling me now?"

"Well, the sword is easy" Jack shrugged. "I'm not really comfortable using the scythe yet. It's not the weapon itself, it's what it represents. I guess a part of me hasn't fully accepted my role at the reaper. As for why now… I couldn't keep it to myself any longer. Lying to everyone, it was killing me. And I really needed to talk to someone. Especially after what happened."

"What happened?" Troy asked.

Jack got a distant look in his eye as he cast his mind back to the last few days, where he slowly began recounting his story.


	3. Chapter 3

3

In the weeks following waking up from a coma, I've been dividing my time between home and the Well of Souls. Of course, before that I needed to finish my animation coursework. Fighting in the university made me aware that I had missed my deadline to hand in my work. It was virtually finished the day before I was stabbed, but without handing the work in I was looking to fail my degree. Fortunately, due to extreme circumstances (such as me dying and the Hell attacking the place) they gave us all an extension. Gave me an extra three weeks to recover and finish my work. I only needed one. It was done and I had other things to focus on.

Including my new training regime. And let me tell you, Azrael is a literal drill sergeant. And I mean he doesn't pull any punches. He keeps telling me that I'm more powerful now, and immortal, meaning I can take the worst that he's dishing out. But that doesn't stop it hurting, a lot. And that's just when he's personally kicking my ass. Otherwise he has his monsters do it for him.

One prime example was a few days ago. I walked into a foggy chamber only to be met with a hulking shape towering over me. I had the scythe in my hands, but it felt incredibly heavy and awkward. As a result I was slow to react to its backhand across the room. I hit the wall so hard I felt something snap in my spine. After shaking off the stars spinning around my head I was able to look up to see the twelve-foot tall monster storming out of the fog to find me on the ground, grabbing me by the waist picking me up. The monster looked terrifying. A huge round head with a single massive eye in the middle. No mouth. Massive hands. A giant club in one fist. Huge muscles. It looked like it could snap me in two without trying.

Miraculously, it didn't. I managed to swipe at him with my weapon, cutting into his arm, forcing him to let go. I landed on my stomach, practically bouncing off the ground. I quickly pushed myself to my feet with a grunt, rolling out of the way seconds before the cyclops brought its club down on top of me. The ground shuddered from the impact. I kept my footing, running in a circle to try and attack it again. I hacked and slashed at its legs, using all my strength. But apart from the occasional groans and growls, I think I was only annoying it. It swung at me over and over, stomping on the ground shaking the cavern. I dodged and sprinted, but I was getting exhausted. It's not like I've been monster hunting for years. I just got this gig a few weeks ago. And it showed as I managed to deflect the club, only for its weight to send me to the ground disarming me of my own weapon.

The cyclops was quick to take advantage of my vulnerability, stomping on my back snapping my spine like a twig. I felt it break and screamed in agony. It felt like my back was being torn apart. To make things worse the cyclops leaned forward, putting its full weight on me, grabbing my head with both its hands. And then it started to pull. Literally pull, trying to tear my head from my shoulders. Let me tell you, this thing was strong. Really strong. I could feel my neck straining to stay together, feel the burning feeling of my tendons ripping in two. It was beyond painful. I struggled to grab at his hands but I couldn't break them open. I thought I was going to die. Until finally I just screamed "ALRIGHT I GIVE UP!"

And just like that, the cyclops dissolved and disappeared. I slumped onto the ground almost whimpering, groaning in pain. Somehow my back was reset. Maybe because my healing factor had kicked in. Maybe I really am immortal. I forgot to mention the cyclops wasn't actually real, which just made the whole thing even worse. It was some kind of holographic hard-light construct, a magic training dummy. Still hits and feels like the real thing. Probably would've killed me. Yet it still didn't hurt as much as the Angel of Death did when he jumped on top of me. I'd just managed to push myself up to my feet before he came slamming into me, crashing me onto my back. His face was glaring down at me before the dust had settled.

"What the hell was that?" he asked furiously, his heavy boots crushing my chest.

"That thing nearly tore my head off!" I shouted back, grunting in pain trying to push him off. Azrael always was a heavyweight, but you don't realise how much until you have someone like him standing on your chest. I was struggling to breathe.

"You're immortal" he reminded me, stepping off my chest with a disappointed sigh. "Do you think the real thing would let you tap out? You are the most powerful being in all of creation now, yet you do not utilise your full potential to fight off the simplest of creatures. You have unlimited power but do not even attempt to use it?"

"Forgive me if it takes me a while to remember I'm a bloody superhero now" I snapped.

"Right now, you are barely a warrior" he growled, walking out of the training room with a huff.

I picked myself up and followed after him, brushing myself off stretching my bruised limbs. Everything hurt. Full disclosure, I forgot about most of my new abilities. Particularly the Hellfire brand in my hand.

"Hellfire Brand?" Troy interrupted.

Jack paused to hold up his palm to his friend. Troy peered closely and saw the faint burn marks scolding into his skin, pale white lines forming the shape of a circle, inside which was a pentagram and three intersecting lines. It didn't look like anything Troy had seen before, but it was certainly branded into Jack's palm. "The Mark of Hellfire" he explained. "I got it after grabbing a pendant hanging around Zac's neck the day I was stabbed. It branded itself to my hand just before I died, so I brought it over with me into Limbo. It's the reason I was able to stop Marchosias in Derby. Apparently this brand utilises a powerful form of magic few beings in creation have even seen."

"This brand gives you magic powers?" Troy asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

"Basically. I can summon fire, throw fireballs, burn through barriers, even read minds apparently. Although I think that one was just a fluke."

Troy leant back narrowing his eyes. He wanted to argue how ridicules that sounded, but he held his tongue. Reserving judgement, as promised. "Okay then. How do you keep forgetting you have it if it's so powerful?"

"It's like when I'm wearing my glasses" he shrugged, taking hold of his spectacles for emphasis. "I just completely forget they were there."

Anyway, afterwards I'm following Azrael out of the cave. Oh yeah, the training room is a cave full of mist. Not the weirdest room in the Well of Souls. There are actually some stunning chambers. There's one that's a natural waterfall with a large pool and a glistening green floor. Freya calls it the shower chamber, our bathroom. I've yet to try it but she claims to love it a lot. Speaking of which, she was waiting for us outside as we crossed into the observation deck of the fortress. That's where Azrael monitors the multiverse from his obsidian throne. I prefer the vast open ceiling that looks up into the swirling space of creation. Hundreds of colours, millions of stars, it takes your breath away every time because it's always changing. Evolving. It's beautiful.

"How'd you go?" Freya asked as I joined her by the balcony. She always had that comforting smile, trying to keep my spirits up. She has way too much faith in me.

"He barely lasted three minutes" Azrael reported. He didn't break his stride as he walked to his throne and sat down. I saw the images and visuals he started monitoring, glimpses of the multiverse as he checked the defences and borders. I didn't understand how those holographic screens worked before, until they explained that everyone who serves the Well of Souls shares a telepathic link with the fortress. So we can all see what Azrael sees. I had that link from day one, even before I became the reaper. Marcus noticed, seeing it as the first hint I had been chosen by the Well.

Freya paid Azrael no heed as she turned back to me. "Oh well. At least you're improving" she said sportingly.

"Yeah" I agreed sarcastically. "Now it takes slightly longer for me to get my ass kicked."

"Its progress" she replied.

"It's disgraceful" Azrael complained. "You need to stop sulking like a mortal and start fighting like a soldier. You're the Grim Reaper now. Act like it!"

You know what I'm like when it comes to my temper. I swear sometimes I feel like I'm going to explode. Not physically, but you know. And Azrael really tests my patience these days. But what do you say to a thousand year old angel? "Easy for you say. You don't have twenty years' worth of survival instincts slowing you down" was the best I could manage.

"Then learn to overcome it" he replied. "I may be duty bound to train you, but that doesn't mean I have to coddle you like a schoolboy. If you want to keep wasting our time, go ahead. But I won't pretend to be pleased about it."

He sat back in his chair and just ended the conversation there. Freya came up and ushered me away before I could kick-start another argument. "Just ignore him" she said when we were out of earshot, walking across the cavern to a small cliff that held the Soul-Bridge. Two large obelisks jutted out of the ground near the edge on a circular raised platform scrawled with runes. This operated as our transport from the fortress to the multiverse. Freya and I sat down on the edge of this platform together as she tried once again to cheer me up. "He's always complaining about something" she said.

"He's right though" I replied. "Maybe we are just wasting our time. I'm not getting any better."

"Just give it time. Marcus got over six months of training from his mentor before he became the reaper. You'll get it too."

"But Marcus isn't here to train me, is he?" I snapped. I regretted it the moment I said it. Freya wasn't the person I was angry with. She was the only one trying to support me. And the mention of Marcus always brought down the mood. She missed him a lot. He meant a lot to her, like a father in many ways. I didn't want to upset her but that's exactly what I did. To her credit, she was able to hold off the waterworks this time. "I'm sorry" I quickly apologised.

"It's okay" she said quietly. But I could hear her voice cracking. "I'm okay. You're right. Marcus isn't here. But we are, and we support you. Even Azrael, in his own unique way." We sat in silence for a while, in remembrance to the old man who threw me in at the deep end when he died. Eventually she asked me "Were you really holding back again?"

"Maybe" I said quietly. Like I said, I'm not used to having superpowers. When my head tells me to run, I run. She would argue that I didn't run when Derby was attacked. But then I would point out I had her and Azrael as back up. She would remind me of how I defeated Zac and Marchosias on my own. I would tell her I didn't have anything to lose then. I was already dead. Now I'm not.

"Crap! That reminds me" I suddenly blurted out, leaping to my feet and checking my watch. "I promised my mom I'd be back in time for tea. I have to go." I hopped onto the platform and activated the runes, immediately opening the rainbow portal mentally telling the bridge where in creation I wanted to go. I used to need a holographic map, but it got easier to just think of my destination.

"Jack, wait!" Freya called out just before I stepped into the portal. "Don't be too hard on yourself. The Well chose you for a reason. Marcus gave you his power because you were meant to wield it. Remember that" she told me.

I just nodded and turned away. But I remember thinking something I knew might break her heart. That Marcus and the Well made the wrong choice.


	4. Chapter 4

4

Travelling through the Soul-Bridge is always an exhilarating experience, like riding a roller-coaster at max speed through a rainbow. At first it made my stomach churn and I threw up nearly every trip. But then after a few jumps I got used to how disorientating it was and able to fly in and out of our realm without expelling my lunch. I landed in Limbo a few streets away from my house. I could have had it drop me right there in my bedroom if I wanted it to. But I needed the walk home for two reasons:

First reason, I needed the walk. After the exhausting events of that day, I needed to process everything. Work out the aches from the beating. Think about my place in the universe. Clear my head. Everyone keeps going on about how I'm the next protector in the multiverse, the most powerful being in existence. But the fact is I don't feel like the most powerful being in creation. I only just came back from the dead. Now I'm the saviour of the universe? You weren't there in Derby when everything when to Hell. Who would want to deal with that on a daily basis? I didn't ask for this.

Sorry. Sometimes it just gets to me. That's why I needed the walk. I'm trying to adjust. It's just difficult. Azrael doesn't take it easy, and honestly I wouldn't expect him to, but everyone just expects me to just step into Marcus's shoes and pick up where he left off. Never mind that whatever was responsible for killing him is still out there, so I have to keep looking over my shoulder. And he was already dead. I'm not anymore.

Which brings me to the second reason I walk home. My family have no idea about all of this. After I woke up they did everything they could to help me get better and bring me home. They looked after me. Not over the top, just enough to get me back on my feet. Of course I was faking from the start. I was fine and would've just discharged myself from hospital the second I woke up. And when I got home I didn't need to arrange to see a therapist, but they insisted. So the keep them happy I agreed. After a few weeks they were convinced I was back to normal and let me get on with my life. It gave me room to breathe and train with Azrael at the Well. But I still needed an excuse for why I was out of the house all day. Fortunately an opportunity came about that proved convenient.

"So how was Karate class?" my brother asked the moment I got through the front door.

"Fine" I said, closing it and walking through the house into the kitchen to get a drink. My mum and dad were in there getting dinner ready. My sister was on the sofa in the living room on her phone. My brother was coming down the stairs. Mum told me dinner would be ready in ten minutes and asked how I was. I said fine. Everything was normal.

The _Karate Class_ cover was actually dad's idea. I thought He would prove a good distraction for me over the summer holidays. Mum agreed. Neither of them said it but they thought it would also be a good idea if I learnt self-defence. I didn't really argue, but I did insist on paying for it myself. The last thing I needed was for them to be out of pocket buying classes I wasn't attending. Fastest way to get caught in a lie. And it seemed wrong to mess with them like that. So now it's just an excuse. I mean, I did check it out but the guy's useless. I actually think, despite the beatings, Azrael is a much better teacher. The rest of the day was relatively quiet. Dinner with the family. Watching TV. A brief interval of dodging questions before we retired to bed at our respective times. I didn't go to bed until almost midnight, distracting myself with TV before deciding to go to sleep. I think I got maybe an hour of shut-eye before I was awoken during the night.

The worst thing about being a Phasewalker is the fact I can now see and listen into neighbouring dimensions, like Limbo. Do you know how annoying it is to be walking through the street and be able to hear the sounds of dozens of creatures stalking a different plane of existence? Just by accident? Sitting at home and sensing a presence I just know isn't actually behind me? Now try to sleep with that ability. It's worse than listening to my dad or brother snore.

Anyway, I was trying to sleep in my bed when I heard a voice talking to me from beyond the barrier. "Jack" it was saying. "Are you there? Can we talk please?" I wasn't scared. Annoyed, but not scared. Because I recognised the voice as Freya's. She'd travelled to where my house sat in Limbo mirroring the real thing in order to talk to me. Limbo is a funny place. Its looks exactly the same as here but is distinctly different, what with the floating platforms and decaying buildings. My bedroom looks like a shell with a caved in roof and a wireframe for the bed. I could tell because I used my new abilities to peer through the veil and find Freya standing in the crumbling room all alone scanning the area. She couldn't see me. I think she was taking a guess I'd be here. I wasn't getting much sleep anyway so I quickly changed into my clothes and sat back on the bed, phasing through the barrier to materialise next to her on the uncomfortable frame. "Sorry, did I wake you?" she asked apologetically. My appearing out of thin air doesn't freak her out as much as it would me.

"I wasn't sleeping anyway" I told her. Honestly, it was a relief to talk to her. Feel like I needed a real friend right now.

Jack paused and quickly added "no offence", looking at Troy.

Troy just shrugged.

"It's not personal. I just needed time to work through everything. Freya is the only one who has an idea of what I'm going through. The only friend who knows about all of this. So yeah, it felt good to talk to her. Now I'm talking to you."

 _After the fact_ Troy thought. But he pushed the resentment down before Jack could register it on his face. He nodded for him to continue, waiting patiently.

"So how are you really doing?" she asked me.

I was quiet. I didn't know what to say. That's a lie. I knew exactly what I wanted to say. _How do you think I'm doing? I'm just an ordinary guy who five minutes ago was stabbed in a goddamn alley, and now everyone is treating me like I'm the bloody messiah. I'm not your bloody superhero and don't want to be._ But you know me. I hate confrontation. And I didn't want to upset her. She has so much faith in me it kills. So I lied. "I'm fine."

She didn't believe me. But like a good friend she didn't push it. We just sat in silence for a while until eventually she just blurted out "You're not Marcus, Jack. I never expected you to be. I know you think Azrael is trying to force you to fill his shoes, but you don't have to. Marcus was an amazing Reaper, one of the best I've ever known. But he had his flaws. He wasn't you. You can be something different. Not the reaper he was, but something more."

It felt like a kick in the gut hearing it confirmed from someone else. But I think she was trying to make a different point at the time. All I heard was that I'm an absolute failure. I wasn't in the best headspace to hear it. "I get it. Marcus is a better reaper than I am. So why did they choose me to replace him then?"

"I don't know" she replied defensively. "But the Well made the decision. It must've seen something we don't. You were chosen to be here Jack."

"Then it chose wrong" I snapped. "I'm not the man you all want me to be. I am not the person you need me to be. I'm sorry for wasting all your time but even I know a lost cause when I see one. I see it every time I look in the mirror."

"Jack…"

"I need to get some sleep. You should go."

I didn't mean for it to come out so harshly. Or maybe I did. The conversation was over and I sat in silence waiting for her to just leave. She was reluctant to, but she did eventually. She tried to talk to me one last time, but I just ignored her. I didn't want to give her anymore false hope. Once she left I just phased back into my room and stared up at the ceiling the rest of the night. There was no way I could nod off now.

The next day just got worse.


	5. Chapter 5

5

The next day I was training again. I told my parents I was going for a long walk, maybe visit you. They never question it when I said that and I'm sorry I didn't come around sooner. If it's any consolation, Azrael kicked my ass again.

I knew it was coming. I was practically dreading it. But I figured if I didn't at least try to improve my fighting skill he wouldn't let up. Fortunately, the training regime for that day wasn't construct monsters. Instead it was a personal brawl with the Angel of Death himself. I walked in and he was already standing there, holding his sword like a cane, waiting impatiently. "Choose your weapon" he said gruffly. I found the selection of weapons on the table next to me. A variety of weapons were available, but one sat above the rest. My scythe. The scythe of the Phasewalker. It was clear Azrael had organised this display on purpose, to make it clear there should only be one choice. But I still took the sword instead, which he didn't approve of. It wasn't out of spite. I just couldn't bring myself to lift it yet. Last time, Azrael just shoved it into my hands. The sword was a lightly weighted and balanced blade. It felt more comfortable in my hand. It was the same blade I used to fight Marchosias and Zach in Derby.

So I joined Azrael in the training room. He waited for me to stand before him, giving me about five seconds to compose myself, before lunging in for the attack. I was on the floor in under three seconds. "Get up" he said bluntly, waiting for me to get back to my feet. I managed too, looking up at the man anticipating the next attack. I landed on my butt four seconds later. "Get up" he repeated. This was how our training session went for the next hour. I stood up, braced myself, and fell back to the ground only for him to order me back to my feet. Sometimes I was able to block his initial attack. Sometimes I take a swing of my own, only for him to dodge my attack. At one point I jumped up to my feet and lunged at him before he'd even said the words. I think I saw a glimpse of a smile after he slammed me back to the ground, but it was probably just my imagination.

"Is this how you get your kicks?" I asked him, getting rather angry as I picked myself up. "Do you enjoy beating down your students?"

"Only if they refuse to learn" he replied. He turned back to me and waited for me to get back on my feet. Once I was, he swung his fist at me. In my anger I was able to sidestep the swing and hit him in the chest. I hit him hard enough to knock him back, but didn't manage to push him onto the floor. He adjusted his stance and followed up with his sword, cutting into my side before kicking me in the chest. "You're getting frustrated" he growled looking down at me.

"Do you blame me?" I snapped.

"You're angry because you can't beat me. Maybe if you tried using your power like you just did you might stand a chance." Our training was interrupted when Freya showed up at the doorway. She seemed worried. When Azrael saw her he simply turned away dismissing her. "Whatever it is, it can wait until after training" he said.

I'd had enough at that point so I just pushed past him. "No, we're done" I told him. I walked towards her and basically insisted she lead the way out so I didn't have to listen to Azrael grumble and order me back. "So what's wrong?" I asked her walking back to the observation deck.

"I've been tracking the anomalous signatures across Limbo" she told me. "After Marcus's death Azrael and I have been keeping an eye out for potential threats or escaped entities. Most of them have been dealt with by the wraiths. But one managed to slip out into the mortal world and is haunting a few locations around where you live."

"That doesn't sound too bad" I commented as I joined her at the balcony. Azrael appeared behind us checking the monitors, finding the entity she was talking about. "Why not just send another wraith then?"

"Wraiths can't go outside Limbo without Azrael's consent" she replied.

"They don't go anywhere without my consent" he reminded her. She bristled apologetically. He scanned the monitors and scowled. "It's just a minor spirit. The lowest threat possible. Apart from a few hauntings it's practically harmless to mortals."

So, no reason to panic. But then Freya said "I just thought maybe Jack would like the opportunity to…you know, deal with it?"

"Why?" I asked. As he said, it was harmless.

"Marcus always said the best way to learn was though good old fashioned hard work, using practical experience. It's why he took me on almost every mission he went on. With you struggling with your training, I thought this might be a little more helpful."

"You want to throw me in at the deep end?" I joked. Marchosias was the deep end. What she was talking about would be like the tutorial stage. Sound advice looking back on it.

"It's just a simple relocation mission. Just grab the spirit and you can use your phasing powers to pull it back into Limbo. It's already out of phase being a spirit, so it shouldn't be difficult. Even a monkey could do it."

"Oh, so you're sending the monkey" I replied, rather coldly.

She backpedalled immediately. "No, that's not what I meant" she tried to explain, but Azrael jumped in saying "I think that's an excellent idea. A practical training session. Unless you want to join me back in the training room?" he said.

We both knew I had no intention of agreeing to that. So I said I'd do it. "If only to keep you off my back" I told them. Freya gave me the coordinates for the spirit and I left through the Soul-Bridge. I still had my sword with me, though they assured me I wouldn't need it. I landed outside a school in Kirk-Hallam. Thanks to the summer holidays the place was empty. The spirit was meant to be somewhere outside in the grounds.

I searched for a couple of minutes, not sure what I was looking for, until I found it. Then it seemed quite obvious. The ghost was a floating spectre shrouded in cloth, completely translucent, it's face vacant but seemingly searching for something. I don't think even it knew. I was only able to see it because of my powers. I watched a group of teenagers walk straight through it like it wasn't there, briefly shivering from the contact. The ghost didn't even notice them.

 _A nice easy mission_ they said. _Just grab the spirit and throw it back into limbo_. Simple.

"I'm guessing by your tone it wasn't" Troy asked.

Jack shook his head. "No, it wasn't. Nothing was simple about it."


	6. Chapter 6

6

Jack got up and began pacing around the room, suddenly agitated. "I mean, what do they expect me to do? Just jump into every incursion and deal with it? I kill one Dark Lord and suddenly I'm the only exterminator in all of existence?"

Troy stayed seated, his patience tested as he watched the young man walk around the room. While he was distracted he reached into his pocket and brought out his phone, quickly bringing up the internet and looking up the number he might need later. Jack was his friend. He wanted to believe what he was telling him. But it was too outrageous. _Jackson White is the Grim Reaper? Friends with an angel? He saved Derby from demons? That sounds crazy._ Troy listened, believing he owed him that much. But after ten minutes he started to wonder if Jack was having a mental breakdown, the traumatic experience of the accident triggering some kind of mental delusion. He managed to find the number of the nearest hospital with a suitable psychiatric care, saving the number into his contacts in case he needed to call them. He wanted to help Jack. He just wasn't sure how he'd take it.

"I mean, okay, maybe Freya just didn't notice the addition of a mutated hell-hound in the same place as the spirit" Jack continued. "I mean, I nearly didn't notice. But she sent me there and they have a monster detector at their disposal. Do they expect me to believe they didn't notice a wild dog-like demon running around a school yard?"

"So what? You think they set you up?" Troy interjected, hiding his phone under the table, casting a wary glance to the sword leaning beside the door. "Like a test?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I thought maybe Freya was trying to prove I can handle things. That I'm not worthless. Or maybe Azrael set this up to throw me in at the deep end. He was rather happy to let me go on this mission instead of training with him." He slumped back in his seat and sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I don't know what to believe. All I know is they acted really surprised when I called them."

"You have the afterlife on speed-dial?" Troy asked.

"It's more of a telepathic link with the Well of Souls. All I need to do me mentally signal the fortress and, as long as they're present in the observation deck, they can communicate with me. Freya was talking about getting a mobile phone, but she's still adjusting to mortal technology."

Troy's shoulders shrugged. For a second he thought there was a way to prove Jackson's claims. Instead he just admitted he hears voices in his head. He allowed Jack to continue his story, even while his hand tightened around his phone.

Freya was the one to answer first. Her voice rang inside my head as the link was established. It still felt weird hearing them from across the multiverse. People would probably think I was crazy if they saw me shouting into thin air. Luckily, I have experience talking to myself so it wasn't too unusual for me. As soon as she started speaking, I asked her "Did you forget something?"

"What do you mean?" she asked me.

"I mean the six foot long mangled dog skulking around the school scaring the local teenagers?" I said accusingly.

She sounded surprised and slightly insulted. "I don't know what you're talking about. There is no dog."

"Really, then what the hell am I looking at?" I shouted, staring directly at the hound that doesn't exist. As I said, it was terrifying the group of teenagers I passed earlier. I heard shouting just as I was pacing towards the spirit I was sent after, turning to see them backing away from a snapping pair of jaws. When I turned back the spirit was flying away into the sky where I couldn't chase it. After all, I'm the reaper. I cannot fly. So I turned around and called Freya, waiting for her to get back to me as I approached the dog.

Azrael's voice echoed through my skull as I walked slowly towards the group, drawing my sword quietly listening to him. "How could you possibly fail to notice this creature?" he asked, but I could tell the question wasn't directed at me.

"I swear, it wasn't there a second ago!" Freya insisted. "I wouldn't have sent Jack there if it was."

"Thanks" I interrupted. Good to know everyone agreed this was a bit beyond my abilities.

At least, I thought we were. Because Azrael came back saying "We'll discuss this later. But it appears to be a minor threat, though that could change if it starts killing mortals. You need to deal with it now."

"Just like that?" I asked.

"You've been training for weeks. Time to use it. Marcus was right, practical experience trumps the training room. Use this at an exercise. You're the reaper now. Be a Reaper."

There was no arguing with him after that. This was me in the deep end, now I had to swim and try not to get torn apart. The dog was growling at the teenagers who, by the way, were acting like a bunch of idiots. They weren't running away. One of them had his mobile out taking pictures. Another was goading it with a stick. I swear they were trying to be mauled. Maybe they thought it was just an ordinary rabid dog. In which case they are still idiots. But, the good guy that I am, I had to save their stupid lives.

I picked up a nearby discarded can, promising myself to bin it later, throwing it at the hound to get its attention. It bounced off its hide. I heard it bark as it flinched, turning in my direction glaring at me with its vacant eyes. The image rather unsettled me. But not as much as when the hound suddenly sprinted in my direction. It came at me like a train, crossing the distance in two seconds. I didn't have time to react before it had its jaws around my arm, biting down to the bone. Needless to say it was painful.

Troy took the opportunity to look at Jack's arms while he was talking. After his shower Jack was wearing Troy's spare clothes, loose jogging bottoms and a t-shirt a size too big. A hoodie was draped over the back of his chair. The shirt exposed Jack's arms, neither of which had any signs of being mauled by a dog. He didn't say anything though.

Once the dog pounced on me I fell on my ass. It was a heavy creature, its sharp teeth digging into my flesh, claws digging into my chest. Blood was pouring out of the wound. I was screaming in pain. This was Azrael's idea of training. Somehow I was able to throw the dog off me and detach it from my arm, but it came back just as fast. This time I was fast enough to react, swiping at it with my sword. It glanced off its back. I had hit it with the flat part by accident. It was not amused. We scuffled for a minute but I was able to swing again, this time using the sharp end. It cut into its side and howled in pain, snapping its jaw wildly. I swung again, driving it deeper. On the third swing I nearly cleaved it in two. But it fell dead. I won.

I was standing over the melting body of the hound attempting to catch my breath. Blood was still leaking from my shredded arm, but I could already feel the muscles and tendons healing. Within an hour it was as good as new. Benefits of being immortal. And the melting body wasn't unusual in this job. Demons did it all the time apparently. It enables their remains to avoid detection or discovery from mortals. When it was over I turned back to check on the teenagers who, for some bizarre reason, were still here. They were fine. So fine that they took the opportunity to tell me how terrible a fighter I was. I was so bad, they said, that they could've killed it faster. I would've loved to see them try. But instead I just walked away.

They were right. I was bad at it.

I returned to the Well of Souls and walked straight up to the observation deck. Azrael was waiting for me, waiting by his throne as I stormed over there. "Good job kid" he said when I got there. "Now was that so hard?"

"Screw you" I replied. "Now why didn't you just say you wanted me to kill a wild dog?"

"I swear, it wasn't there when I sent you!" Freya protested, appearing from the side staring at the mystical monitors. "Jack, I promise, if I knew about it I would tell you!"

"Where's the spirit" Azrael asked, ignoring her protests.

"Flew off" I replied bluntly.

He let out a grunt of disappointment. "No matter. You killed a wild hell-hound today, which must've slipped through the cracks while we were dealing with Marcus's death. Tomorrow we will track down that spirit and you can try again."

"You want to send me back out? Were you not paying attention when I nearly got mauled by that thing?"

"Then I suggest we go back into the training room and keep training" he said, dragging me back across the fortress to beat the crap out of me some more.


	7. Chapter 7

7

Troy took the opportunity to excuse himself and go to the toilet, letting Jack take a break and compose himself. The larger of the two got up out of his seat, carefully making his way around to the stairway. Jack remained seated, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. They'd been talking for the last half hour. And in that time, Troy had become convinced Jack needed professional help. So once he was upstairs and out of earshot, locking the toilet door as a precaution, he dialled the number he saved in his phone. After a couple of minutes, a welcoming voice greeted him asking how she could help. "Hi, yeah, um…" Troy whispered nervously, cautiously glancing to the door. "I have a friend who I think he needs help."

"Can you elaborate further please?"

"He's been talking about all this stuff. I think he's having a nervous breakdown. He was in an accident a few weeks ago and had been in a coma. He's at my house now and… he has a sword."

The woman on the other end fell silent all of a sudden. After a few minutes she finally came back to him. "I'm sorry sir. Do you fear for your safety?"

Troy hesitated before answering. "He's my best friend. He hasn't been acting threatening. He left the sword by the door. I don't think he intends to hurt me. But I don't know if he wants to hurt anyone else, or himself."

"Okay sir, I'm just going to patch you through to a colleague of mine. Could you just wait on the line please?"

Troy was about to answer when he heard footsteps outside. "Troy?" Jacks voice echoed through the locked door. "You okay?"

He quickly hid his phone behind the toilet as he turned to the door, just in case he suddenly went all Jack Nicolson and broke the door down. "Yeah, I'm fine" he called back, his voice confident and calm.

The footsteps stopped just short of the door. "I was going to make a drink" Jack said. "Do you want anything? If you don't mind?"

"No, I'm fine" he replied. He heard another voice humming from the phone, covering the speakers in case Jack heard it. Luckily, he heard his friend walking away and back down the stairs. Once he was sure he was gone he brought the phone back up. "Sorry, I'm here."

"Hello, can I get your name sir" a man's voice greeted him.

"Troy Anderson" he answered.

"Okay Troy. And what's your friend's name?"

"Jack. Jackson White."

"And are you sure he needs assistance? Does he have a weapon? Do you believe you are in danger?"

"I don't think I'm in danger _right now_ " he told them. "But his has a sword and he appears to be delusional. Like I said, he was in an accident a few weeks ago and was put into a coma." He heard clattering from downstairs, gulping down a twinge of guilt for selling his friend out. "He's waiting for me downstairs. I have to go."

"Okay, Mr Anderson. Here's what I need you to do. Don't hang up. I want you to leave the line open and continue your conversation with Mr White. Keep him talking. I'll have the police on the other line so we can all listen in and formulate the best course of action. Whatever you do, remain calm and keep him talking. If things appear to be escalating the police will be there to intervene. Do you understand?"

"Yes" Troy replied, taking a slow breath as he loudly flushed the toilet and proceeded to do as instructed. He left the bathroom and made his way downstairs, the phone in his hand, his palms sweaty. When he got to the bottom of the stairs Jack had his back to him, standing in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of juice. He quietly placed the phone face down on the mantle, hoping they could hear them from there. "Sorry I took so long" he said walking back to the dining table.

Jack glanced back and smiled. "It's fine. Gave me a second to figure out what to say next." He took a swig of his new drink and joined him mate. They locked eyes a moment, nervous tension in the room. Troy unknowingly glanced to the sword by the door. Jack noticed, glancing in its direction. "Don't worry, I don't plan on using that" he chuckled, trying to defuse the tension.

Troy let out a nervous laugh. "So" he said cautiously. "Where were we?"

"Getting a drink?" Jack answered.

"You were looking for a spirit after killing a hound" Troy corrected, trying to keep Jack talking just as he was instructed.

Jack's face fell. "Oh, yeah. I'm surprised you're still listening. Half expected you to call me crazy by now."

Troy's stomach knotted with guilt. "I don't think you're crazy" he lied. "I'm just here to listen. It looks like you need to talk."

Jack was silent, nursing the rim of his drink. "Do you ever wonder if you are doing more harm than good?" he asked him out of the blue. Troy shrugged. "It feels like all I'm able to do these days is screw something up. First the school and the hound. Then the old people's home. Now this."

The young man fell into silence once more. For a moment Troy feared he knew about the mobile on the mantle. But when he looked into his face he saw genuine shame and guilt. _Had he done something?_ "What happened Jack" he asked worried.

"People died" he replied quietly. He looked up at his friend with tears in his eyes. "People died and it was all my fault."


	8. Chapter 8

8

It all went bad the day after the hound incident. Azrael spent the whole morning trying to teach me how to fight for longer than thirty seconds. His method never changed. Just throw us both in a room, start a duel, knock me flat on my butt and then start over. Sometimes I am able to hold my ground, remembering to use my hellfire brand, swinging the sword, blocking a jab, but it always ended with bruises.

After an hour he turned and walked out of the room, muttering over his shoulder "Pathetic." I was in too much pain to really argue so I just lay there and let him leave. It took me about five minutes to get back up and follow him out. He was sitting at his chair on the observation deck, monitoring the multiverse. Freya came over with a cup of tea, offering it to me. "I don't really drink tea" I told her.

"It's an old herbal blend from the White City" she replied. "It helps alleviate aches and pains. I figured it would help you recover from Azrael's training regime." I needed something to help with the pain so I took a sip. It wasn't hot, but it was seriously disgusting. "I never could get used to the taste either" she admitted.

"Finally!" Azrael shouted from across the room. For a moment I thought he was talking to me, ready for another round of ass kicking. But instead, he was looking up at his displays. Whatever he was looking for had just showed up. The two of us walked over to see what was going on. He turned to us and explained, "I found your spirit."

"The one from the school?" Freya asked, looking up at the displays.

"Yeah, I found where it wandered off to" he said. "A small residential building a mile or two from where it disappeared." He turned and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "You up for another crack at catching this thing, boy?" he asked me.

I asked him "Are you sure there aren't any hounds waiting for me this time?"

"I swear, it wasn't there when I looked!" Freya protested again. I got the feeling Azrael had been giving her a hard time about it.

"The only thing there you should worry about is the spirit" Azrael said. "No monsters. No demons. Just grab the spirit and throw it back into limbo."

"Just like that?" I asked. He explained that it was still out of phase and thus I'm the only one who could get a hold of it and pull it back into the right dimension. I thought about it a moment and figured it'd be bad form to back out now. "Okay, just drop me at the coordinates through the Soul-Bridge."

Azrael nodded and relayed the information. He didn't wish me luck. Freya followed me to the portal and pulled me aside before I jumped through. "You can do this" she insisted.

"Can I? I screwed up royally last time" I reminded her.

"Marcus always told me he never got it right the first time either. Just be patient. You are learning. Just…have faith, okay?"

Faith was never my strong suit. But I appreciated the gesture. She waved me off and I was transported through the bridge to a street in limbo. I recognised the street. A bit run down but I knew where in Ilkeston it was. I was standing outside an old folk's retirement home. Always walked passed that building but never went in before. I decided it would be easier to traverse through limbo first and find the spirit then talk my way through the reception and staff. I was getting the hang of using my powers to see through reality and still keep track of where my footing in this plane was.

Walking through the halls I saw, through the reality barrier, dozens of people sitting in chairs, traversing the corridors in slow motion, talking to each other. I could hear their voices through the walls. You know I'm not a bad guy, but I just couldn't stand listening to the drone for too long. Not like Mira can. You remember Mira? Care worker now. Saw it on her Facebook page. Funny how everyone suddenly gets in touch after they find out you've been stabbed. Tell a lie, she was one of the only people to get in touch and see if I'm ok.

That's not a dig at you. I'm sure you were busy.

The point is I don't have the mentality or patience they would need on a regular basis to take care of those people. I do applaud care workers, from the bottom of my heart. But I, personally, needed to get out there as fast as possible. Fortunately, once more, the spirit was surprisingly easy to find.

Unfortunately, catching it proved a bit more difficult. It was floating around an empty room around the back, which allowed me to phase through to our reality where I wouldn't be disturbed. It saw me as I crept forward, as if it could sense me coming. Which would make sense I suppose. I leapt forward to grab it, but it slipped literally through my fingers. I chased this thing around the room, but it was like trying to grab air. They told me a monkey could do it. I bet it could do it way better than I could.

"Are you done yet?" Azrael's voice rang in my head.

"Just give me a minute" I mumbled as the ghost disappeared through a wall. I didn't have time to use the doors so I just ran at the obstacle, phasing through it easily.

While I was chasing it, Freya's voice joined Azrael's calling to me. "Jack, there's something in there with you. I don't know where it came from but it's there. We must've missed it."

"Missed what?" I asked.

The second I emerged on the other side of the wall, I saw it. The ghost had floated through the wall into a large living room, where about twenty people over the age of seventy were gathered. My focus was on the spirit as it floated up around the ceiling. Yet it was difficult to miss the 14 foot tall pile of mass and flesh stumbling around the living room as old men and women screamed at it, fleeing in terror like snails while these massive, dripping hands pick them up and shove them into an oversized maw swallowing them whole. The younger members of the staff who hadn't run away in terror were trying to help the elderly flee.

I stood there in shock looking up at this mass of flesh, too stunned to move as the spirit floated around it. I couldn't think of what to do. Except, you know, scream at my colleagues over the telepathic link, "How the hell did you miss this? It's got its own gravity!"

"I'm sorry" Freya replied. "I don't know how we missed it or where it came from."

"Right now, it needs to be dealt with" Azrael shouted. "If a demon is left running loose then it won't just be the old people who'll be visiting the afterlife."

"Well how long does it take to bring your wraiths down here?" I asked.

"I can't send the wraiths to that dimension. You need to stop it."

"Me? Please tell me you're joking! This isn't a training room."

"You don't have a choice. Time to step up _Reaper!_ "

After that, the voices fell silence. I think Azrael cut the link, forcing me to confront the bloody thing on my own. Needless to say I was not ready for this, but it's not like I could just turn around and leave. I am the Grim Reaper now. This is my job. Protecting the mortal realm from monsters. Who else was going to save those people? So I had to at least try.

But I was not ready.

I drew my sword, stepped forward and literally just shouted at the monstrosity. I figured if I could distract it the rest of the survivors would be able to escape. So I shout "Over here!" at it. Except it didn't seem to hear me. So I ran forward and hit it with my blade. I don't know how thick this thing's skin was, but the metal just bounced off. I just hacked at it, screaming loudly. After a minute the creature finally moved… to sit down. I dived out the way, narrowly avoiding being squished. The thing tried to sit on me. I don't even think it knew I was there. I got so angry I punched it with a blast of Hellfire.

That got its attention.

The mass of flesh groaned as its massive head lurched around to look at me, its expressionless features staring down menacingly. I say features. It didn't have any eyes, or ears, or nose, or anything. Just a giant toothless mouth. Its huge arms reared up and it roared at me, bringing its fists up high enough it nearly pushed through the ceiling. I stared up at it, realising I'd bitten off more than I could chew, stabbing at its torso before it brought its arms down. I jumped out the way watching it hit the floor, the ground shaking like an earthquake. Before I could react it swung at me with a backhand, striking me in the chest sending me through multiple walls. For something so big, it moved rather fast.

By the time I had picked myself up out of the rubble it was barrelling towards me, crashing through brick and motor roaring aggressively. It brought its fist's up again, intending to squash me flat. I instinctively phased into Limbo to escape, leaving it to smash into the spot where I was second before. This time the ground shook so much the whole building suddenly collapsed, sinking into a giant crater as the concrete below gave way. I watched through the barrier as the creature was buried alive under the building, along with every other unfortunate soul still trapped inside.

I stepped out of Limbo just before the dust cloud settled, standing on the edge of the new rubble filled pit, staring into it. I couldn't see any sign of the creature. I couldn't see any sign of life. All those people trapped were now dead and it was all my fault.


	9. Chapter 9

9

I went into a sort of daze in the hours following. Apparently I tried to help find survivors by digging through the rubble, desperate to find anyone, until I was pulled away by firefighters. Then Azrael and Freya pulled me back to the Well of Souls to try and figure out what went wrong. The monster had been buried alive. There was no sign of it in the aftermath, so Azrael was happy to declare the mission a success. But Freya was concerned about the fact neither of them managed to detect it. Of course Azrael was playing the blame game, putting the spotlight on her.

"It's not my fault!" she protested indignantly. "You didn't see it either!"

"Don't try a pin this on me" he growled. Pretty ironic if you ask me. "We're just lucky we were able to contain the threat before it spread."

"But where did it come from? The Well didn't alert us to it. Could it be possible it's not from Hell?"

"A manmade monster? It's possible. It would explain how it just appeared inside the building before we could detect it."

"How many people died?" I interrupted, sitting silently on the steps of the platform. The two angels looked back at me, pausing their argument to address me. They couldn't seem to answer. I did the count afterward. Fifteen residents were reported missing on the day. I counted at least eight of the elderly getting eaten when I was there. All the while I couldn't do a thing to stop it.

Freya seemed to be the only one to share in my defeat. She came over and sat down next to me, putting a comforting arm on my shoulder. "It's not your fault Jack" she told me gently, but I shrugged her off.

"Isn't it?" I asked her, rising to my feet to begin pacing around the room. "I'm the one who's supposed to be protecting these people. Yet, when the time came, I couldn't even wound the bloody thing. It nearly squashed me. It demolished a building. We don't even know if it's dead. It could still be out there."

"Then we'll find it" Azrael grunted.

"And what then?" I asked him.

"We'll deal with it" he replied.

"We'll deal with it? Meaning what? If we find it, I'm to stay here on the bench or get sent out to fail again?"

He was silent. But his expression spoke volumes. We both knew I wasn't up for it. If they found the monster again, they couldn't risk sending me out again. Next time, I might not get as lucky. Next time, more people could die. Or worse. He didn't say it out loud. He didn't need too.

I started walking towards the exit. "Where are you going?" Freya's voice called out to me.

"Somewhere I can't screw anything up" I said. I left the fortress as fast as possible and went straight home. I didn't have time to answer my parent's questions. I didn't explain why I was back so soon. I just went to my room and sat down. I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"No, that's a lie. I wanted to talk to somebody. But there was nobody to talk to. Who could I explain all of this too?"

"Why didn't you call me?" Troy asked.

Jack looked up at him from the table, his head slumped on his arms solemnly. "I don't know" he admitted. "I considered it. But we hadn't talked since before I was killed. You didn't know about me, or this. How could I explain it?" He shrugged. "Maybe if I had told you this morning, none of this would have happened."

Troy paused, his eyes staring back at the depressed young man across from him. _This morning?_

"Anyway" Jack continued. "I had other things to distract myself with. At least until Azrael called me a couple hours later."

I was in the living room watching TV, looking for anything to keep me busy for the rest of the afternoon, when his voice suddenly rang in my head through the telepathic link again. I figure I'll need to find a way to block it at some point. Anyway, he made me jump and I immediately left the room before answering him. "What do you want?" I asked him. Rather harshly, I'll admit. But he was most of the reason I was in a mood.

"Don't take that tone with me kid!" he snapped back. He sounded impatient. I was ready to start a full on argument, even ready to step into Limbo so my family didn't hear it, when he suddenly interrupted me. "Listen! I don't have time to argue with you. There's an incursion in progress out in the arctic that I need to sort."

"Forget it" I told him. "I'm not in the mood to save the world right now."

"Good! Because I was going to handle it with a contingent of wraiths myself."

"Then why did you call me?" I snapped.

"Because we've also found the demon that you thought was buried from earlier. It's approximately six miles north of your current position."

"Can't you deal with it?" I asked him. "You know, send someone qualified to stop it?" I wasn't ready to go and screw up something again, not with the same monster. He had an army. He could spare a few wraiths. "Send Freya!" I added.

"She's already there" he explained. "But she wasn't there for the demon. She was tracking the spirit you let slip away. But when she found it, the monster suddenly attacked a mortal populated area."

Suddenly my blood ran cold. Freya was an angel separated from the White City, the capital of Heaven, but she still has to follow their rules and laws. Law number one being "avoid detection by mortals." She can't use her magic in their presence. They can see her with wings, provided they don't witness her revealing them, but otherwise no magic or powers. If she was fighting that monster with dozens of witnesses, she would be utterly powerless. "Is she crazy?" I asked over the psychic coms.

"She feels guilty about leading you into two ambushes unprepared. She thought you required time and went to finish the objective by herself. I told her to return here, but she refused to abandon the mortals."

My head was spinning by then. "But why was the monster there? Is it following us?"

"No" Azrael explained. "We can't track it from here. But the spirit has been following it."

"That makes no sense. The first time I chased it, it was a Hell-Hound I fought."

"Minor spirits like this one are drawn to larger astral entities, like moths to a flame. It's so common I didn't even consider it a potential warning system." It sounded like he wanted to keep it for when the fortresses sensors went down. "The point is, we know why it's there. But unless it's stopped it'll keep killing people. Freya can't kill it on her own. She needs you!"

I was hesitant. Wouldn't you be? I already failed once. People died because of me. But if I didn't, Freya was in danger and so were dozens more people. "Can't you go?" I pleaded.

"Did you forget I mentioned the incursion in the Arctic?" he growled. "Now is not the time to be feeling sorry for yourself kid! Now is the time to step up and do your job!"

And with that, he hung up, leaving me with a very difficult decision.


	10. Chapter 10

10

I was still getting the hang of this phase-walking traversal thing. I didn't have time to go back to the fortress and use the Soul-Bridge so I had to slip out of the house and sprint to Freya's location on foot. Fortunately, Limbo's constant fluctuating nature helped me cross the distance in half the time it would've taken running along the canal. Hopping from one platform to the next, sprinting along crumbling bridges and dodging a couple of the Soulless, I managed to reach the coordinates Azrael gave me in record time. That was when I realised where the monster was attacking, and immediately understood why there were so many witnesses.

I guess motorcycle rallies are more popular than I gave them credit for.

When I touched down, I was still in Limbo. But I could see and hear the chaos through the barrier. Dozens of people were screaming and running for their lives in every direction. Some jumped onto motorcycles or cars. Others just run away. But in the middle of the carnage the giant fleshy monster was stomping around, swinging wildly at everyone and grabbing whoever it could to throw them into its maw. Sometimes it even lashed out its tongue like a frog, snapping victims into its mouth faster than I could blink.

I watched as it grabbed a screaming guy with its hand, lifting him off his feet to drop him into its mouth. But before it could chomp down on him Freya leapt in and grabbed the guy, yanking him clear of the monster telling him to run. She was sprinting around the area, helping people to their feet so they could flee. She even carried a child to its mother before turning back to engage the monster. But she couldn't fight it properly. She had her spear at hand, the old thing she could draw without raising eyebrows or violating the White City's laws, but even I could tell her spear was useless to its thick hide. As a result the beast caught her with a backhand, knocking her to the ground at its mercy.

That was when I finally jumped through the barrier and intervened, hitting the monster with a charged fist of Hellfire. It was caught by surprise as I phased into the air beside it, smashing my right hand into its head, stalling it long enough for both me and Freya to jump out of its range. "You okay?" I asked her the moment we were on our feet.

"Yeah, I'm okay" she replied smiling at me. "How did you know where I was?"

"Azrael called me" I explained quickly. "He thought you might need a hand and he was busy apparently."

"Thanks" she said as the monster reared back up. We both looked around at the thinning crowds and agreed we had to draw the monster away from the building and civilians. So we worked together, hacking with our sword and spear to lure it down the road towards the canal. It was hard work, keeping the attention of something big enough that each strike barely glances off him. Freya was having a hard time adapting to battle without her abilities. "What is this thing?" she asked in frustration after it shrugged off a stab to the abdomen.

"How the hell would I know?" I snapped. "Any ideas how to kill it?"

"Not without exposing myself to the mortals" she replied glumly.

At which point I looked around and realised the crowd was finally gone, fled to safety anywhere but here. "I think they all left" I reported to her. Freya glanced around before breaking into a sigh of relief. Without a word she tapped her pendant and unleashed her wings, a sign she was set to just tear this monster apart. I didn't blame her. I was done holding back to.

We both jumped at the beast, unleashing magic and Hellfire to knock the pile of mass onto the bridge hard enough to crack the concrete. And yet it continued to be virtually indestructible. We got the upper hand only for it to hit back like a massive sledgehammer. Freya was thrown across the road. I retaliated with my sword only to be smashed into the bridge. My head was ringing when it brought its hands up over its head. But Freya was smart, flying through the air to kick it over the side, toppling into the canal below.

She landed next to me to help me up, asking if I was okay. I didn't have time to answer her. I sensed it before it happened. Got me wondering if I now have spider sense. I pushed her out of the way just before the monster lurched up over the side, its mouth open wide as it suddenly bit down onto the bridge where I was standing. It swallowed me down it's gullet along with chunks of concrete.

It was not a pleasant experience. It felt like I was falling forever, swimming in a vat of sludge and mortar. The concrete dug into my skin as it was grounding to dust, like it was dissolving inside its stomach. I panicked and started kicking wildly, trying to find an air pocket or something. I don't know how long I was in there for. I was struggling to hold my breath. I couldn't see anything. I kept feeling something brush against my arms and legs. It felt like bodies, probably being digested. I screamed and shouted. I thought I heard Freya's muffled voice from outside. I didn't have my sword on me. I must've dropped it. The next thing I knew, my hand was alight with fire and I was sailing into the canal covered in sludge. I heard a rush of water as the monster vomited me up. Maybe the brand had something to do with it. Maybe Freya managed to trigger it. I don't know and don't really care. I was just happy to be breathing fresh air again.

We were under the bridge, hanging onto the edge of the canal. I was crawling up to the lock that was next to it. Freya was on the bridge stabbing at the monster, who was standing on the opposite side. I found my sword impaled in the wooden door blocking the water within the lock. Crawling towards it I heard Freya shouting to me, trying to get my attention, calling for help. I pulled the weapon free and was met with a jet of water. The blade had punctured the dam.

It gave us an idea.

Shouting to Freya I ran up to the bridge to distract the monster, telling her what to do, pointing to the lock. She understood what I was saying, leaping into the air to land onto the wooden blockade. I took her place, hacking at the monster as it climbed up and braced itself on the bridge. It didn't take long for Freya to pry the locking mechanism open, leaping free of the doors as they splintered open, unleashing a torrent of water at the monster. It was struck full force in the chest as it was wretched from the bridge, brick and concrete crumbling in its grip as the force of the onslaught drove it underwater.

We thought it was over. But then, as Freya was hovering overheard, it opened its mouth at the last second and shot it's tongue back out. It grabbed her around the ankle, yanking her out of the sky. She cried out for me. I ran forward to the edge of the bridge and grabbed her hand. She held onto me so tight. But my hand… it was too slick with slime. She just…

The last thing I saw of her was her terrified expression as the thing pulled her down with it. They both vanished under the tidal wave, disappearing down the canal.


	11. Chapter 11

11

Jackson finished his story with a long sigh, his shoulders sagging as he fell back into his chair. Troy waited at the opposite end of the table, quietly processing everything he had been told. The room was silent as they both sat awkwardly.

At lot of what Jack said sounded too farfetched to be true. But some of it seemed to make sense. Troy was particularly interested in the part of his story where the familiar building and canal was featured. From the description Jack gave him, the fact the building was a hub for a motorcycle rally, it sounded very much like _The Nest_. That concerned him, because that location was only a few yards up the road from his very house. "So what happened next?" he asked him nervously.

Jack looked up from his seat. "What do you mean?" he asked surprised.

"After what happened" he insisted. "The monster was buried underwater. After this angel was pulled under with him. Then what happened?" He wasn't sure if it was wise to encourage this fantasy, but he wasn't a fan of loose ends. And the police were still listening in from his phone on the mantle. He needed to keep Jack talking.

But he just shrugged. "Nothing. She slipped out of my grasp and disappeared. I lost her. What could I do? I just slumped down atop of the bridge and… I was covered in sludge and slime. I needed to clean myself up. I couldn't go back to the Well. I couldn't go home. Your place was just around the corner. So I came here."

Troy waited, but Jack had finished. He looked up at the door and realised that's exactly what he had done. Suddenly it all made sense. _But that would mean everything he had just said had just happened_. He thought back to when he answered the door to Jack and found him covered in gunk, the wounded and distant look on his face. The memory triggered a faint recollection of hearing a loud commotion outside his house ten minutes before that. He heard dozens of cars and bikes speeding along the road and people screaming. He didn't think anything of it. There was always a lot of noise at the rallies up the road. _But what if everything Jack claimed was true?_

No. Troy still thought he was having a nervous breakdown.

He stood up and refilled his glass, mulling over the situation, wondering what the next best approach to help his friend was. He still didn't appear to be a threat so he had no reason to panic yet. He could pick up his phone and ask the police on the line to move in and talk to him. But Jack was his friend and he had to at least try to talk him into turning himself in. "So why tell me all this?" he asked, walking back to his seat to address the young man.

"I had to tell somebody" he explained. "And you are my oldest friend. I figured you be the only one to listen and be honest. Am I crazy?"

Troy hesitated before he answered. He didn't want to be dismissive and harsh, but he didn't want to lie either. "I don't know" he admitted cautiously. "What you're saying…it sounds crazy." Jack nodded, as if he was expecting it. Troy then, however, went on to add "It also doesn't sound like you."

"Excuse me?" Jack asked.

Troy wondered if he was doing the right thing, but he figured he could let him down gently. "We've known each other for a long time. So I think I can safely say I know you well enough to know this doesn't sound like you. You're not a superhero Jack."

"You think I don't know that?" he snapped.

Troy held his nerve though. "But you are a good guy. You remember a while back when you first told me about… Sorry, what was her name? The girl you liked at university?"

Jack took on an embarrassed posture as he answered quietly. "Kassie."

Troy nodded, recalling the awkward conversation they had over a year ago. Another conversation initiated by Jack needing someone to talk to. He came around to Troy's house one weekend and took about three hours to finally say what was on his mind. He had asked about the first time he fell in love with a girl. Troy wasn't sure how to answer. He recounted his first kiss and early dates, but wasn't sure if he had ever been _in love_. That was when he deduced Jack must've met someone that he had feelings for. Which, at the time, was a big thing as Jackson had never been in a relationship in his life. He'd never even been interested in dating until now. He managed to coax the story out of him and eventually just explained that the best course of action was to just ask her out the next chance he got. A few weeks later, on his next visit, he asked about her. But Jack just fell quiet. It would be a month until he explained she wasn't interested in him any more than a friend.

"You remember when you told me how you stepped in to defend her when that arsehole lost his temper?" he continued. Jack thought back about it and nodded. Part of the story was how Jack had stepped between her and a guy called Zac, who was giving her a hard time, speaking up for her and telling him to back off. Supposedly, that lead to a string of animosity between Jack and Zac going forward. "You liked this girl and was willing to put yourself in harm's way to help. You wanted to play the hero."

"I thought we agreed I'm not a hero" he interrupted.

"You don't have superpowers" he clarified. "But you are still a good guy. Always have been. A lot of our old friends from school gave you a hard time about it, but it was just who you are. So, if you did you have superpowers, and…just supposing I believed you…if everything you told me was true, the last thing I would expect from you is you turning around and running away. Especially if someone is in trouble."

"Then you don't know me that well then" he muttered, rising out of his seat.

Troy watched him briefly, measuring his response carefully. "This girl you failed to save. Freya? Is she a close friend of yours?" he asked.

He looked back over his shoulder nervously. "I suppose she is" he replied. "She was the first person I met after I died who I felt I could trust. And she's the only one who believed in me. Even while I was telling her otherwise."

"So you care about her a lot?" Troy persisted. "That's why I know this isn't true. Like I said, you're a good guy. You wouldn't just leave her behind without at least trying to help."

Jack stared back at his friend, his expression falling into shame. "You're right" he whispered, tears falling from his eyes. Troy edged around the room towards the mantle. He believed he'd broken through to him, convinced him what he'd said was a delusion. Now he could get help. He walked to the mantle and picked up his phone, the line still open. The next step was to tell the police to stand down so he could get Jack to a hospital where they can help him.

But when he turned back, Jack was gone.

He spun around, running to the back door to find the sword he'd brought with him had vanished. He panicked briefly, until he realised the back door was open. Then he heard the gate slam shut. He sprinted for the front door and flung it open, stepping out into the street to find Jack walking down the street towards the canal. "Jack!" he called after him. "Where are you going?"

"To find Freya" he called back. "And failing that, to find the monster and make sure it's dead before it kills anyone else."

Troy watched his best friend march onwards, his sword sheathed on his hip. He didn't know what to do, looking down at the phone in his hand. "Hello" he whispered into the mouthpiece. "Are you still there?"

"Yes" the voice on the other end replied. "We've been listening and heard everything. It's clear your friend needs mental help Mr Anderson."

"What do I do?" he asked worriedly.

"Where is he heading?"

"I don't know."

"Okay, listen carefully. Keep the line open, but I need you to stay with him until police units arrive to detain him. Does he have a weapon?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Keep the line open. We can track the call and intercept you. But you need to stay with Mr White until they arrive."

"Okay" he nodded, quickly pulling on a pair of shoes before sprinting after him. He slipped his phone into his breast pocket, keeping the line open as instructed. Hopefully he was worrying over nothing, but he had the sense Jack was going to do something stupid, like cause himself a lot of harm. He couldn't let him hurt himself or anyone else.


	12. Chapter 12

12

Troy was able to catch up with him just as he rounded the corner, crossing the small bridge overlooking a stream, following the road up towards the canal and _The Nest_. Jack was much more athletic than Troy. Neither of them were the sportiest of people in school, and not much has changed, but Jack was slimmer and more energetic than Troy. As a result, he was walking briskly along the road without breaking a sweat while Troy was short of breath after sprinting to catch up. He called out his name, prompting the young man to pause and look back at him. "What are you doing here?" he asked him, waiting in the middle of the road.

Troy held up his hand as he caught his breath, standing up straight explaining "I'm coming with you."

"That's not a good idea" he said.

"You need help" Troy insisted, omitting the part where he was talking about his mental health, letting Jack believe he meant help saving his friend.

"It won't be safe" he told him, looking nervous and worried. Troy just gave him a look that said he wasn't going anywhere. He saw a hint of a smile on Jack's face. "Okay. Thanks" he said quietly, leading the way down the road. "I thought you'd believe I was crazy."

Troy did think he was crazy. But he was smart enough not to say that while he had a sharp sword within arm's reach. He followed quietly behind as they approached the canal bridge, where he made a left turn to follow the water. When he stepped around his escort he got his first glimpse of the bridge and _The Nest_ past the bushes. He was expecting everything to be normal and unscathed, in contrast to how Jack described the area.

To his shock, half the bridge was missing, the brick and concrete torn away, scattered across the road and canal banks. Next to the bridge was the lock, which was ripped open and splintered, emptied of water? There was clear signs of flooding along the canal path where Jack was currently trudging through, ignoring the damage. Troy peered further up the road to find the grounds of the car park in chaos, part of the building crumbling from a giant hole in the wall. Troy froze as he looked around the devastation. It was exactly like Jack had described it.

_That doesn't mean anything. Maybe it was already like this. Jack saw it and fabricated a scenario around it. He always had a brilliant imagination._

He quickly stepped down to the flooded path along the canal, following his friend along the water. He pulled out his phone and whispered into the mobile "You might want to send some policemen to _Man's Former Nest_. I think something happened."

"Like what?" the voice asked.

"I don't know. Something bad. I have to go. Jack's heading along the canal path. Heading in the direction of his house."

Troy had no reason to use the canal path that often. Jack used it every time he paid Troy a visit, and sometimes just to get some exercise. But Troy figured it shouldn't look this messy. It was flooded sporadically, like the water levels rose in waves to drown the nearby plant life. A few yards down there was a small bridge linking two bright green fields? Both of them looked up to see it tilted at an odd angle, slanted towards the water like something had grabbed it and yanked it down. Jack's expression turned to frustration and fear, his hand reaching for his sword peering up the path. Troy glanced around at the environment, trying to find an answer to this damage.

He didn't want to ask Jack about his thoughts. He would probably claim the monster had survived and was dragged down the canal. He seemed to believe that theory. He had his eyes fixed to the water as they walked forward. "So…" Troy said after they crossed under a large train bridge, trudging along the path quietly. "How are things at university?" he asked him, looking to change the subject for a short time.

Jack was quiet. Distracted. After a few minutes he finally answered. "It's been better."

"How about with Kassie?" he asked. He knew it was a dangerous topic to push. Jack was a very private person. But it was a safer option than the alternatives.

Jack let out a long breath as he walked forward. "It's complicated" he replied. He made no indication he wished to talk further.

Troy nodded. "Okay then. Tell me about the accident then."

"You mean my death?" he corrected.

Troy scowled behind his back. He didn't die. If he had, he wouldn't have ended up in a coma. And he was definitely alive right now. "What happened?" he asked, staying on topic.

He shrugged. "I was in an alley when I was ambushed. A hooded figure with a knife. He stabbed me in the chest. I died, woke up in the afterlife. Shit hit the fan." He lost his train of thought, falling silent before falling back on course. "I found out later I wasn't the intended target" he told him.

That caught Troy's interest. "What do you mean?"

"Zac wasn't really after me" he explained. He caught his words and backpedalled. "Zachery Helmsley was the one who killed me. I didn't know that at first. Not until later. When I woke up, the policemen who talked to me to take my statement explained that he had killed me. And then launched an attack on the university. He killed dozens of people after me. But he wasn't after us."

"Who was he after?" Troy asked.

Jack was hesitant, slowing to a stop on the path. Troy stopped and waited. "It was Kassie" he told him, his voice shaking. "He was trying to kill Kassie." Troy was taken aback by the news, blinking in surprise as he continued. "Zac had a lot of issues. I always thought it was me he had the most beef with, what with all the arguments we had. But apparently it was Kassie he hated most, purely because she represented everyone he believed treated him like crap. He was bitter and lost. She's not. She's better than all of us put together." He stopped himself from talking further, but Troy could tell he had so much to say. It made more sense why he always conflicted with this Zachery then. Jack would defend her at every turn. That's why they fought. It also foreshadowed the rest of the story. "Zac was waiting outside Kassie's apartment building, waiting for her to come home so he could attack her. But I walked her home, and in doing so he couldn't ambush her. I saved her life without even realising it. He realised he couldn't get her isolated while I was around so he followed me on my way back to the bus station, killing me instead. Maybe it was just revenge, or maybe he hated me just as equally, but I was the consolation prize."

He started walking again, ending the conversation abruptly. Troy considered this version of the story, seeing a new perspective within Jack because of it. He wasn't meant to die. But if he hadn't, someone he cares a lot about, someone he loves, would've been killed in his place. That's a lot of weight to carry on your shoulders. Troy didn't know what he would do if he was in Jack's position, how he would cope. _Maybe it's no wonder Jack's mind was broken._

They continued onwards along the canal, crossing over another bridge to follow the waterway, finding more signs of flooding. The damage came to a steady end, the waves dispersing until it looked as normal as any other canal. The silence between the pair of them became uncomfortable the longer they continued. Troy had to ponder how long he was going to let this go on for. _Where did Jack think he was going?_ He was still scanning the water, looking for something Troy was convinced didn't exist. He looked back up the path, the canal twisting around the trees and bushes, the neighbourhood hidden from view. Jack's place wasn't that far from here. If Troy could get him back home he could get him help safely.

"Where are we going Jack? Troy asked cautiously, keeping a safe distance from him in case he lashed out. He watched the young man dressed in his spare clothes walk head of him. He didn't appear to be listening to him. "Jack? There's nothing out here?"

"I need to be sure" he insisted, keeping his gaze on the water, pushing forward. "You saw the damage it did along the way. It must've washed up eventually."

Troy shook his head as he came to a stop, shouting back to him "Come on. We can't walk forever. Let's just go home. We can talk about it some more, figure out what to do next."

Jack finally came to a stop, taking a slow, deep breath as he looked over his shoulder. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"No" Troy quickly lied, taking a cautious step forward.

He suddenly took a sharp turn on his heel, facing his best friend straight on. "Do you know why I came to you instead of my family?" he asked him. After a short pause he answered, "Because I trusted you enough not to lie to me. I figured you'd hear me out, but then I was prepared for the hard truth."

Troy felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "I don't know what you mean" he replied quietly.

Jack's face rang disappointment. _He knew_ , Troy realised. _He knows_. Jackson was never stupid. He could tell when someone was being dishonest. "Just say it" he hissed, glaring at him. "We both know, if anybody else came to our place spouting the same story I just had, we'd be calling bullshit on all of it. It sounds mad. I sound mad. So just admit it!"

Troy gulped, taking an instinctive step back.

Jack noticed, his eyes widening as he looked up at him. "You really think I'd hurt you?" he asked in disbelief.

"No" he quickly said, throwing his hands up trying to calm him down. "It's just… Jack, you've been through a lot. I get it. It's just… Look, let's just get you home and…"

"And what? Get me in a strait jacket?" he snapped.

"No! Why would you think that?"

"Oh, come on! You think I've lost the plot. I'm surprised the cops haven't stormed in already to be honest." Troy went pale, opening his mouth to object to the idea when he added "You've had them on the line for the last hour, Troy. I'm might be an idiot, but I'm not stupid."

His chest tightened. _He knew_. He glanced briefly to the mobile in his breast pocket, the police still listening in to their conversation. Hopefully they realised the gig was up and they were on their way here. "Jack, I'm sorry" he said apologetically. "I wanted to believe you…"

"But you felt threatened by the madman with a sword" he chuckled, resting his hand on the hilt. Troy tensed, bracing his muscles ready to run down the canal. Jack stood silently, his slow breathing filling the silence. _Was this it? Was he about to snap?_ But instead he started crying. "Of all the people in my life, I just thought that you… you _might've_ believed me. If not, then you could've been honest and tell me the truth. That I've lost it." He brought his gaze up and narrowed his eyes. "So just say it."

Troy stared back at him sadly, a part of his heart breaking. "I think you're crazy, Jackson" he said, at long last. Jack released a long sigh, closing his eyes in relief. He paced slowly around the area, turning in a slow circle, weight lifted from his shoulders. "So…Should I take you home?"

Jack nodded, wiping his face casting one last look down the path. When he did though, he suddenly walked forward as something caught his eye. Without a word he sprinted forward and Troy groaned, forcing himself to chase after him. The two of them ran along the path towards the next barricade on this canal, where they were met with a scene of rushing water being funnelled into the lock.

The first of the two wooden doors was wide open, as per usual, but the second set that would block the water level from overflowing to the lower level was severely damaged. Jack ran up to find it broken and partially open, the water pouring out into the other side flooding the path and ravine. Troy stared in shock at the damage, as if something had bulldozed through it like a wrecking ball. He asked what the hell happened here, to which Jack just responded "The figment of my imagination" before sprinting over to the intact barricades. He leapt over the canal, landing neatly on the other side into the wet grass, sliding over to the levers to pull the left door shut.

Troy mirrored him on the opposite side, staring in shock at how easily he jumped the gap. The effort became difficult as they fought the rushing current, pushing the doors shut with all of their strength. Jack was somehow able to move his side into place, jamming his sword into the concrete to jam the door in place before running along the bridge to help pull the second side into place. Troy looked on in shock, amazed at the impossible display of strength Jack displayed as he yanked the door shut, locking the lock in place, shutting off the waterway. The central section emptied out as the remaining volume left through the broken exit. The two of them watched it clear, the water levels returning to normal.

"What the hell is going on?" Troy asked himself, looking down at the devastated doors. It looked like something had struck the blockade and then torn it open, flooding the canal. Just like the damage he'd witnessed further up the canal. _There's no way that something could actually be…_ He looked back at Jack, his eyes wide full of so many questions. He found him crouched over the overflow, examining something caught in the bushes. When he came up to full height he was holding something in his hands. It wasn't his sword. That was still impaled in the concrete. No, what he was holding was a glinting silver spear. "Jack?" he called to him, about to ask where it came from. But then he recalled the story he had recounted. _It's can't be_.

Jack's expression grew distant, staring off past his best friend. "It must've smashed through the lock" he muttered, his hand tightening around the shaft of the spear. He tilted his head listening carefully to their surroundings. Troy listened too, but he couldn't hear anything. Leaping to his feet, Jack pulled the sword out of the ground, running onto Troy's side of the canal to examine the damage, following it up to the neighbouring embankment where they found a trial of flattened grass, trees and fencing leading into the neighbouring plot of land. "We have to find it" he said to himself, leaping forward following the trail carrying both weapons.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Troy shouted, tentatively following behind him. "We need to call the police!"

"They're already on the phone" he quipped, holstering the sword while carrying the spear in his left hand. He reached the huge gap in the fencing and stepped through to the yard.

Troy awkwardly followed, pulling out his phone telling the voice on the other end what they found. The voice asked about Jackson, seemingly disinterested in the devastation of the canal. "Where's your officers?" Troy asked him, but the voice just asked again about Jack.

"Over here" Jack called back to him, weaving around piles of lumber towards a scrapyard, where piles of scrap metal towered either side of a large gap in the fence. He ran up and peered into the next yard, scanning the environment waiting for Troy to catch up. Together they entered the scrapyard and followed the trail. "You really should run home" he whispered to Troy.

"Not without you" he replied. That was until he heard a loud creaking from up ahead. They looked up as a giant pile of scrap suddenly rose off the ground, raining debris over the floor revealing a huge shape to the pair of them. Troy stared at the sight of a mass of flesh and skin, coloured matt pink and red, like a human being had been turned inside out. It turned around to look down at them with a massive jaw lined with rows and rows of teeth, but it had no eyes or other features. The sight was so terrifying Troy nearly shat himself. "What is that thing?"

"Is it just me, or has that thing got bigger?" Jack asked out loud, looking at the monster as it stepped out to greet them on thick tree trunk like legs.

Troy turned his head sharply to look at him. "Bigger? Wait, you mean this thing was the monster you were talking about?" he stammered going pale.

He looked at him from the side, shrugging his shoulders. "You thought I was making it up?" he said rhetorically. "You said it yourself. It's too crazy for me to have made up. Now you might want to run."

The monster roared at it suddenly charged at them, barrelling out of the scrap pile trailing metal everywhere. Troy stumbled back to get away, but Jack stepped into its path. His knuckles turned white around the spear in his left hand. In his right, the burn mark in his palm started glowing, lighting up with an orange glow as his hand ignited in fire. Troy witnessed all of this as he fell onto his backside, shuffling backwards as Jackson stepped forward towards the very real threat.

 _He's not crazy!_ Troy realised. _He's not crazy_.


	13. Chapter 13

13

Jackson had spent the last hour recounting his story to his best friend. Troy Anderson was the only mortal in the whole world he trusted. But even so, he didn't tell him everything.

Here's the _true_ story he wanted to tell him.

The first part, about how he died and came back, was pretty much exactly as he described it. Everything after that, that wasn't the whole truth. He did wake up from his coma the day after the incident at his university. His family was all there, praising the miracle. The doctors poked and prodded him, checking for concussion and internal bleeding and potential side effects. Jack wanted to get out of the hospital and avoid all the attention and questions, but he was glad for the rest after the last week. But then it sunk in how much he would have to lie. He couldn't tell the doctors about his trip to the afterlife, so he claimed he couldn't remember anything. They bought it, telling him it was normal for coma patients. The policeman came to talk to him, getting his statement about the assault. He told him what he knew as of the time of the attack. He considered giving up Zac's name, but he decided to keep to what he knew at the time. Fortunately, they had statements from witnesses at the university who heard him confess to it, and enough evidence to close the case. After that was done he was left to recuperate.

His friends did visit, but only two or three were allowed to see him. The lucky trio happened to be Danielle, Ajay and Daniel. Jack was disappointed Kassie wasn't with them, but was ultimately glad. He didn't want to lie to her of all people. They told him Kadin was also injured in the attack, but that he would be okay. Daniel had a bandage on his head. Nobody mentioned how he stopped Zac from harming them. He wondered why they didn't say anything. He figured they were confused and believed it to be a hallucination. Or maybe they needed time. It weighed on him to this day. A few days later he was discharged and he immediately went home before he saw them again. He would have to face his friends one day however.

For now, he had to get his life in order. Like he said, the deadline had been extended so he had time to finish his coursework and hand it in. They gave him three weeks. He only used one. The sooner it was finished, the sooner he could organise his new lifestyle. He quickly learnt how to harness his phase-walking ability, stepping in and out of Limbo regularly. He learnt the path to the nearest manual gateway to the Well of Souls. After that, his training with Azrael began. All he needed was an excuse to get out of the house.

That was the first lie he told Troy. He wasn't in therapy. The doctors advised it, giving his parents the number of a licensed therapist for them to use. Charged to the university insurance. Many of the students were offered consultants. This one was based closer to home for Jack, making it more convenient. His mom and dad suggested he make an appointment, and he told them he would. But he never made the call. The card sat in his jacket pocket, which was currently hanging in his room. He had no intention of using it. He wasn't comfortable talking about any of this. How could he? He'd be institutionalised within minutes. So he lied and used it as a cover story. Whenever he was out, his family believed he was at his doctor's office, or in a support group, or seeing Troy. Every time he lied, it got easier. They never questioned it.

The second lie he told was the reason he carried a sword instead of the scythe. He was partly truthful when he explained that he felt the whole of creation on his shoulders when he held it. But the reality was he hadn't picked it up since Marcus's death. Every day, when he walked into the fortress, Azrael was waiting inside the training room. There was always a weapons rack placed by the entrance and he would tell me to choose. It was filled with axes, spears and swords, and along the top the Reaper's scythe. Jack's hand always hovered over the weapon, drawn instinctively to it each time. But when he did he was met with the flashbacks of the battle in Derby. It terrified him, forcing him to pull away. Azrael would give him a look of disapproval as he picked up the sword instead, but began the lesson nonetheless. The sessions were always the same. Either he would engage the boy or he would send the hard light constructs to overwhelm him. Jack fought hard, but he could never beat his personal best time of three minutes. He tapped out when they either pinned him, broke something, or were on the verge of decapitating him. Azrael would fight until he had Jack flat on the floor and then turn away, repeating "Again."

"Is there a point to any of this?" he would complain, picking himself up slowly. "What's the lesson here?"

"If I have to tell you, then you haven't learnt it" he replied bluntly.

Jack could've argued for hours and not got a straight answer. He resigned himself to giving up, accepting he could never best Azrael. Maybe he wasn't meant to. He walked out the training room to recover, greeted by Freya who tried to cheer him up. It wasn't working. He hated the training. Hated that he couldn't live up to her expectations. That night when she paid him a visit to his bedroom in Limbo he didn't talk it out like he had said. She tried to talk to him, but he was silent. Stonewalling her. The only thing he managed to say was "Why would the Well pick me?"

"Because it sees something special in you" Freya replied. "And so do we."

"What if it chose wrong?"

"It didn't" she insisted. "I believe in you Jack. I just wish you could believe in yourself."

He couldn't. He wasn't the man they needed. He knew it. He saw it every time he looked in the mirror. He knew the others could see it to. The look of disappointment Azrael gave him every time they began training. Even Freya showed hints of despair when she wanders the halls, thinking about her old mentor. A true Reaper. Jack wasn't Marcus. Marcus wouldn't be failing this badly. Marcus wouldn't have let the world fall into so much chaos. He saw the map the angels were monitoring, the glimpses of threats all across the globe, before they hid it away from him. They needed the Reaper to keep the balance and guard the barriers. Without him, without Jack, the world was in more and more danger.

That's what prompted the little field training chasing the spirit. Freya's idea. Azrael's insistence. Jack reluctantly agreed, believing it would be easy. But it wasn't. First it was the hound, which had actually mauled that group of teenagers by the time Jack killed it. He didn't realise the danger until two of them were killed. The third followed after. Jack watched it happen. He reacted too slowly. Or rather he didn't react at all. When he saw the monstrous dog he froze, his body refusing to move to intercept it. It was only when the school ground fell into silence that Jack finally managed to force himself to engage the hound, killing it after a brutal and desperate fight. He walked away from the scuffle with a shredded arm and a bite on his thigh, casting a sad look at the bodies of the teenagers he failed to save.

Then, like de-ja vu, he arrived at the care home. The spirit was there too, so Jack begrudgingly followed it. Once more, the fortress failed to warn them about it. He phased through reality and to find the mass of flesh picking up the elderly and swallowing them whole. He hesitated, just like before, but this time he had Freya's voice in his head, screaming at him to do something. He didn't want to let her down so he attacked the monster, distracting it long enough for a few of the workers and residents to escape. But then the building collapsed in on itself. More people died.

Jack blamed himself. If he was a better reaper he could've saved all those people. Azrael was furious. Freya was sympathetic. But he wasn't ready to hear any of it. He wasn't ready. He left the fortress under a cloud, telling them that they needed to find someone more qualified to replace him. Freya chased after him, trying to talk him back, saying it wasn't his fault, but he brushed her off and went home. He gave up.

So when Azrael called him from the fortress, he tried to ignore the call. But then he explained that Freya had followed the spirit to _the Nest_ and found the monster again, unable to use her abilities around the mortals. Jack told Azrael to fix it himself, despite the incursion he needed to fix. He sat in his living room for a couple of long minutes trying to go back to his normal life. But he kept imagining Freya being eaten by the monster, the image mirroring a memory of her struggling with Marchosias, on the verge of being killed. The vision chilled him to the core and he realised he couldn't leave her to die. He leapt into Limbo without even bothering to use the doors. No one at home noticed him vanish.

It turns out he can run really fast through Limbo when he tries. He crossed the distance within minutes, arriving in time to save Freya from the most by punching it with Hellfire. It shocked him how much it stumbled in that moment. But everything that followed pretty much went as he explained. He got eaten, thrown up, and then watched as Freya was pulled down into the cascading water after she bravely busted the lock open. He tried to catch her but she slipped through his grip, leaving him alone on the bridge with his failure.

He slumped down and wept in despair. Freya was the first person, the only person, who had faith in him. And because of his inexperience, she was gone. He'd failed. As he sat there he didn't know what to do. Troy's place was just around the corner. He was being honest about being in the neighbourhood. He trudged along the road and rang his doorbell. When he answered, he told him everything. His version of events. What he was willing to confess. He couldn't bring himself to admit why all those people died. That he was too petrified whenever he confronted the monsters. That he froze every time he held the scythe. That he was just a broken, useless mortal playing god. He wanted out of this life. He knew that Troy could put him straight. Tell him he was crazy and that he wasn't right for this life. That's what he needed. Azrael wouldn't say it. Freya couldn't admit it. He needed someone to tell him "You're not the Reaper." It's why Jack didn't say anything when Troy called the police. Why he kept telling his story while the phone line was open.

But then Troy reminded him that Freya was his friend and that he had to at least try to find her, or avenge her. But there was nothing to find as they journeyed down the canal. Not until the broken lock. Troy finally admitted he thought Jack was crazy the exact moment Jack found evidence he wasn't. He found Freya's spear, but not her body. A part of him hoped she survived. He followed the trail of destruction hoping she had made it. But he couldn't tune his senses to find her. He found the monster instead.

And as it towered over him in the middle of the scrapyard, Jack forced himself to make one last confession to himself. _There's no leaving this life._

_He was the Grim Reaper now. God help them all._


	14. Chapter 14

14

"Jackson!"

Troy's voice snapped him out of his head, his eyes snapping open to look up at the towering mass of flesh. He sprinted out of the way before its giant fists came crashing down upon him. They struck the ground inches behind him, knocking him forward in a shockwave onto his stomach. The flames in his hand fizzled out as dirt rained on top of him. The sword clattered out of his reach.

"Jack! What is that thing?" Troy shouted, diving behind cover. He was right behind Jack when the monster rose out of the scrap pile. It towered almost twenty feet tall and was covered in slime and blood and mucus. It was exactly like Jack had described. He thought it was just a part of his imagination, but he was wrong. Unless Troy was also crazy and they were sharing a hallucination. "Jack?" he called back to his friend, who was slowly picking himself up off the ground. "Jack? What is this thing?"

 _We're all mad here_ , Jack couldn't help but muse. He knew Troy was under the impression that Jackson's story was a delusion. The monster walked forward, approaching the young reaper, its oversized mouth opening to reveal rows of teeth sharp enough to crunch bone. He spun around, igniting the hellfire brand in his palm to throw a ball of fire at the beast. The flames bounced off its skin, leaving tiny candles dotted along his skin.

Troy watched in amazement as his best friend unleashed a jet of orange flames towards a monster that could only have been born from his nightmares. It stumbled from the assault before belching a cloud of gas, which erupted into a burst of orange light forcing Jack to back away. Troy scrambled behind a skip to pull out his phone, shouting into the mouthpiece to the voice at the other end. "Hello? Are you still there?"

"Yes. What is happening?" the voice asked calmly.

"Where are those police units?" he asked the voice. "I need help now! We're in a scrap yard!"

"Is Mr White becoming uncooperative?"

"What, no! Weren't you listening? There's something here! We need help!"

"Standby."

"Standby?" he screamed. "There's a twenty foot tall monster trying to kill us! You said you had police cars tracking my phone so get them over here!" The voice was silent and Troy suddenly got the impression they weren't going to get here in time. There was a roar from the other side of the yard, followed by another crash shaking the earth. Troy stumbled unsteadily, peeking around the obstacle to find the monster lurching through a large pile of metal, ripping up chunks of ground searching for something. The next thing he knew Jack was sitting behind him, his brow covered in sweat with a large cut along his cheek. "Shit! Where did you come from?" Troy gasped in surprise.

"I can't stop it" Jack stammered, his breathing laboured as he slumped down beside him. "It's too big. Too strong. I can't do this…"

Troy saw the pale expression on his face and the panicked look in his eyes. Blood was leaking from the deep cut dripping onto his clothing. The brand glowed faintly in his hand. Behind them the monster roared into the sky, tearing up the scrap pile throwing debris everywhere. They covered their heads as sharp objects rained down around them. A shard of sleet metal sliced at Troy's leg as another stabbed into Jack's arm. They winced in pain huddling against the skip. "I thought you were the Grim Reaper?" he whispered fearfully to his friend.

"I thought you didn't believe me" Jack replied. He winced as he moved his arm, taking hold of the piece of metal to pull it out of his arm.

Tory watched as the wound healed instantly, along with the cut on his cheek. "A little hard to ignore now that I've seen you in action" he admitted. He glanced out to note the monster was stomping around the yard, knocking over huge machines and equipment looking for them. "So just to recap, you have magical powers, super strength and immortality granted to you by a cosmic god."

"Basically" he muttered.

"So yeah. You can stop this thing. You are a superhero. And we need you to fight that thing before it kills anymore people." Jack looked reluctant, peering out into the yard to see the monster getting closer. "Come on Jack! What are you waiting for?" Troy said insistently.

Jack looked up at the beast, his heart pounding as the last battle flashed before his eyes. He saw his failure, the memory making his blood run cold. "I can't!" he gasped, ducking back to cower out of sight.

Troy stared at his friend as he hid out of sight, crawling over to shaking him violently. "Jack, come on! You have to do this!"

"I can't" he repeated. "I'm sorry, but I just can't!"

"Why not? You fought it before. You killed those demons, saved all those people…"

"I lied!" he shouted suddenly, silencing Troy and alerting the monster to their location. Neither of them noticed it stall to a stop and peer around the area, its eyeless face focusing on the skip. Meanwhile, Jack put his head against the metal weeping. "I lied. I didn't save anybody. The hound killed them all. The monster ate all the elderly. It killed Freya. I didn't do anything. I just… I froze. I'm not a hero, or a reaper, or a Phasewalker. I can't do this."

He broke down into tears, guilt and grief overwhelming him. Troy knelt beside him trying to think of what to say. He tried to understand why Jack would lie to him. But then it hit him. "You really were in Derby, weren't you?" he asked. Jack nodded. "You saved everybody who was there" he continued. "You fought the demons and saved the world. That happened?"

"Yes" he replied meekly.

"And now you're terrified of repeating that day" he said thoughtfully. "The accident. The invasion. And now you're back home and nothing is the same. You're suffering from PTSD, Jack. It all makes sense given what you've been through. But your therapist should've helped you work through it." A brief glance from Jack confirmed that was also a lie. "Of course you're not in therapy. Heaven forbid you actually be honest about your feelings."

"I am trying" he said defensively.

They were interrupted as the skip they were hiding behind was lifted into the air, the hulking mass towering over them roaring victoriously. Troy grabbed Jack's arm and pulled him up to his feet, dragging them both out of its path before it could crush them with the metal box. The ground shook, throwing them apart as a giant fist slammed between them, separating the pair. Troy ducked under a fallen scaffolding while Jack stumbled backwards in a daze staring up at the monster. Troy watched from his hiding place as he stumbled uneasily on his feet, hoping Jack would come to his senses. But to his horror the boy did nothing as the monster barrelled towards him. Jack was hyperventilating, his body going into a state of shock. His limbs grew heavy and his heart was pounding against his ribs. As the creature bore down on him he listened to his impulses, tensing fearfully phasing out of sync with reality. The monster charged through him harmlessly, crashing into the ground behind him.

In the instant he phased time slowed around Jackson, moving sluggishly forward. He cautiously opened his eyes to find his eyes peering inside the beast. This time he saw the true horror of the digesting bodies floating in its stomach, all from the care home. All bar one as Jack saw the faint outline of a young woman with wings trapped inside. "Freya?" he gasped, seeing her floating amongst the corpses.

Time sped back up and Jack was standing in Limbo in a cold sweat, staring through the dimensions at the monster as it stumbled along the yard. _She's in there?_ _She might be still alive!_ He felt a glimmer of hope rise in his stomach, only for it to be squashed by a single thought. _I can't save her. I'm not good enough._

"Jackson!" Troy shouted in his direction, staring at the lumbering monster as it dragged itself back to its feet. He couldn't see him anywhere. He didn't jump out of the way, but he wasn't caught in the creature's grasp either. He scanned the yard but couldn't find him. _Phasewalker,_ he thought, recalling how Jack said he could step in and out of this dimension. _He must be in that other place. Limbo? So why isn't he coming back?_ "Jackson!" he called again. Maybe he really could hear him from this side. _Unless…_

 _If Jack is suffering from PTSD_ , he thought, _if he is terrified to fight the creature again, then he might have left._ His blood ran cold. _He would've left me here alone. No! Jack wouldn't do that. But he might not save him either._

The creature finally looked back in Troy's direction, seeing him hiding under the scaffolding. Troy turned and ran through the structure, heading away from the beast as it came charging forward. It swiped at the scaffold, sending it crashing into the ground. He leapt out at the last minute, scrambling on all fours as fast as he could. The ground shook and he toppled over, falling onto his back looking up at the monster. He was defenceless. _I'm going to die here!_

"Jack!" he called out, shuffling backwards away from the creature. He hoped he could hear him. "I know you think you can't do this. That you aren't strong enough, or that you're not the right person for this. Maybe you're not. I never thought you were a superhero. But I know you wouldn't run and you don't give up, even when everything says you should. Think about your friend. She believed in you. You were given these powers for a reason. Sometimes we just need one person to have faith in what we're capable of." The monster stepped forward, its large maw opening wide. "I believe you Jack! You're not crazy! I know if you're still here. I know you will try to do the right thing!" It brought up its arms curling its fists, roaring into the sky. "Now for god sake DO SOMETHING!" Troy screamed, covering his face with his arms.

The creature's hands came down smashing on top of Troy's body.


	15. Chapter 15

15

Jack heard Troy's pleas across the barrier. He heard his words as they lifted him out of the dark depression he was falling back into. His fist clenched as he steeled his resolve. _I will not fail again!_

Launching into a sprint, Jack ran along the dusty landscape of Limbo, following the path in the mortal realm to where his sword had fallen. He stepped out of Limbo and picked it up in one fluid motion, sprinting towards the monster looming over his friend. His eyes narrowed with determination, the brand glowing around the hilt of the blade. He didn't give himself time to talk himself out of it. He leapt up onto the beast's back, jumping unnaturally high into the air, screaming in fury with his sword above his head. Troy looked up to witness Jackson landing onto the creatures shoulders, stabbing the silver blade into its large head where it sank down to the hilt. The monster screamed in pain unleashing a deafening bellow, a geyser of blood and gas expelling around the penetrating weapon. It reared back and forth trying to shake him off, swinging wildly with its arms. Troy ducked out of the way as metal and debris was thrown everywhere. Jack was thrown off when the creature slammed its back against a crane, the machine rattling from the impact.

He landed beside his mortal friend, rolling onto his feet like a gymnast (which surprised both of them). "Where were you?" Troy asked sharply, hiding behind a pile of steel pillars.

"Not far" he answered vaguely.

They watched the monster stumble sluggishly forward, the silver sword still buried in its skull. "I thought you said this thing was near indestructible?" Troy mused looking at Jack.

 _So did I?_ He thought. But when he cast his mind back to the previous fights, he realised he had been wrong. His memory had been clouded by his own doubts and fears. The truth returned to him as he recalled the first two fights with the monster, as both his and Freya's weapons cut through the monster's flesh spilling blood and gunk. The difference was it was so big that the minor cuts they were delivering were a minor annoyance. But it meant Jack could harm it.

With this fresh realisation, Jack's head filled with new possibilities to combat this monster and save Freya. "Stay here!" he called over his shoulder to Troy. He didn't wait to hear him ask what he was doing, sprinting towards the second weapon he'd dropped.

The creature saw him approach, roaring loudly swinging its first down in his path. But Jack moved too fast, faster than he had consciously moved before. Dodging the attacks, he skid to a halt above the silver spear, picking it up and addressing the monster. His eyes scanned the environment at superhuman speed, pinpointing the exact spot to target that could meet his ends. As the lumbering beast turned to face him, Jack sprang into action, running along the ground practically gliding along the floor. The second he was in position he bent his knees and leapt at the monster, thrusting the spear into its hand pinning it to the crane behind them. The weapon sank through its palm into the solid steel until it was lodged in place. Now unable to pull its arm free, the creature grabbed at Jack with its other hand. He dived out of its grasp, landing on the ground, weaving between its massive legs to scoop up a length of chain sitting at the base of a scrap pile. Acting on impulse, he swung the chain like a lasso, wrapping it around it's free arm before circling the base of some heavy machinery, pulling the chain taunt tying the monster down. It struggled against its new bindings trying to rip itself free, but Jack had fastened the chain to the ground and was now running up its arm towards its head. He jumped back onto its shoulders, grabbing hold of the sword impaled in its skull, yanking the blade free with a squelching bellow. The monster screamed, lurching backwards into the crane shaking the whole structure. Bolts and screws snapped loose as the metal frame started to collapse. Jack stood unsteadily on top of its head. Doing the math in his head as he looked up. _Gravity, don't fail me now_ , he thought, jumping up to the falling structure and hopping over a support beam like a monkey bar. With new found supernatural agility, Jack swung over the monster's head, pulling the crane down with his momentum, slamming the steel into the creature's body. Metal shards impaled into its flesh, trapping it in place with on escape as it roared in pain and fury.

Jack landed on the ground in front of it, staring up at the pinned struggling mass, sword held tightly in his grip. Troy stepped out from around his hiding place and stared at them both, his mouth open in astonishment. Jack glanced back with a similar look of amazement. He couldn't believe he pulled all of that off. For the first time since he got these powers he had stopped worrying about the consequences and just acted on impulse, and this was the result. _Is this what Azrael meant about using my potential?_

He wasn't done yet though. Riding the wave of confidence he'd temporarily acquired, he walked forward towards the monster, looking up and it's snapping jaw as it tried to tear itself free. The metal groaned under its weight, its strength pulling at the bindings. Sooner or later it would break free. But he wasn't going to wait that long. "Payback time, you son of a bitch" he muttered, brandishing his sword in front of him. Screaming with adrenaline and fury he swung twice at the beast, cutting two deep intersecting cuts across its massive stomach, before finishing with a powerful horizontal slice across its gut. The blade cut through its flesh effortlessly, leaving a six pronged star in the middle of its body. Jack stared up at the deep gouges, a proud grin on his face.

The wound swelled, releasing a series of popping sounds as fluids leaked from the cuts. His expression dropped, whispering "Oh crap" moments before the monster's stomach burst open, unleashing a torrent of stomach contents at the Phasewalker. Jack was downed in the barrage of gunk and sewage and stomach acids as they poured out of the beast, spilling out into the scrap yard like a tidal wave. The monster belched as it fell limp, it's mass deflating until it was saggy and silent.

Troy ducked back behind cover covering his nose, retching from the foul odour assaulting his senses as fumes wafted into the breeze. "Oh god" he gasped, his eyes watering. "And I thought it smelt bad on the outside." He stopped resisting and just threw up into the growing pile of sick and sludge before gazing back into the pool, where he saw several shapes of bodies covered in gunk. The closet few showed signs of the creature's stomach acids dissolving them, digesting them slowly. A horrible way to die. He couldn't see Jack anywhere however. "Jackson!" he called out into the sludge.

A shape burst out of the pool of slime, coughing and spluttering as it shook the sewage out of his hair. "I'm alive!" he shouted to him, wiping away the gunk covering his face. His was drenched, again, in slime. He took off his glasses trying to clean them but they just smeared the glass. Folding them into his pocket he looked around the area, his blurry vision struggling to make out details, until his focus fell onto a small shape a few feet away. It was different to the other bodies, emitting a faint aura that Jack could sense telling him it wasn't mortal. "Freya?" he cried out, scrambling forward towards the still, lifeless heap. He crawled over to her and rolled her onto her back, wiping away the slime from her face revealing her smooth skin and delicate features. Troy cautiously stepped out and into the pool of gunk, approaching them slowly, watching as Jack desperately shook her. "Please wake up! Come on, wake up Freya!"

The young woman didn't move. Troy was no close enough to see the girl more clearly. She was covered in slime and sewage, her blonde hair stuck to her skin, grey and brown clothing underneath the sludge. He saw the grey wings extruding from her shoulders and he gasped. _She is real!_

"Freya!" Jack cried, pressing his hand to her neck trying to find a pulse. He couldn't find one and she wasn't breathing. "Oh no. No, please…" He lay her flat on her back, panting rapidly beginning to hyperventilate. _I can't lose her_. He shook his head to clear it, interlacing his fingers and positioning his palms on her chest. _One good thing about skipping work experience, the first aid crash course._ Quickly playing _Staying alive_ in his head, Jack started chest compressions, counting up to ten before pausing, wiping the slime from around her mouth so he could deliver mouth to mouth. He cycled between that and the chest compressions, desperately pleading with her to wake up.

Troy watched him perform CPR for at least three minutes, but there was no sign of her being conscious. Carefully walking forward, he put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "I'm sorry" he whispered, but he just shrugged him off.

"She'll be alright!" he insisted, continuing with CPR. "She has to be!"

"Jack…"

"I can't lose her" he snapped, pressing more forcefully on her chest. "She's the only one who believed in me! I can't fail her, not again!" He pinched her nose and blew into her mouth, willing her to wake up. But she remained motionless. He sat over her coming to tears, short of breath and hope. _I'm sorry_ , he wept in despair.

There was a second of silence as he slumped over the young angel, until her chest suddenly heaved as she vomited up a mouthful of sludge and sewage. Jack jumped up startled as Freya came back to life, rolling her head to the side so she could cough up excess slime before heaving in the fresh air. Her body trembling, Freya limply let Jack scoop her up in his arms to lift her up out of the slime and cradle her against his chest while she struggled to regain her breath. _Thank god!_ Jack thought, holding her tightly while Troy released an exasperated breath.

After a few minutes Freya was able to breathe more evenly, though her lungs were still burning from the strain of holding her breath for so long. She had been swallowed up by the monster moments after being dragged into the canal, her weapon lost in the process. She'd used all her training, magic and strength to hold her breath inside the beast's stomach, trying to find a way out, until she inevitably passed out from drowning. She didn't know how long she was inside that thing. She opened her eyes sluggishly, blinking away the slime and blinding light of the sun until a face came into focus. A young man covered in sludge with dark hair and a worried expression. For a second her brain wanted it to be her old mentor Marcus. But she knew better.

"Jack?" she said weakly, her voice shaking. Jack nodded, wiping the slime from her eyes and face so she could see him more clearly. She reached up and touched his cheek, her fingers stroking his rough skin, and she smiled. "I knew you'd come back."

Jack's gut twisted into a tight knot and he broke into tears. "I'm sorry Freya. I'm so sorry" he said, guilt-ridden for abandoning her.

She shushed him as he hugged her tightly, practically squeezing the life out of her. She didn't mind. She was glad he was here and she was no longer in that place. Suddenly, her eyes widened and her body tensed. "The monster" she asked fearfully. "Where…"

"It's ok" Jack replied quickly. "It's over. We stopped it" he told her. She stared at him in disbelief, watching his nod and listening to his assurances. She calmed down in relief. But then she saw Troy standing behind him and she froze again, hand instinctively reaching for her pendant. He saw her staring over his shoulder and turned to him. "Oh, this is Troy" he explained. "He's a friend of mine. It's okay."

"Hi" Troy said greeting her, waving awkwardly. She looked from him to Jack and back again, nervously waving back. "So…" he said nervously. "You're an angel? I've heard a lot about you."

Freya's face went pale and she looked sharply at Jack. "Yeah, he knows" he said sheepishly. "It's a long story." He shrugged, promising to explain it later.

She didn't seem too pleased about it. But they were interrupted when Troy pointed over their heads. "Um…Jack…" he said worried.

The two of them followed his finger and saw the deflated monster was moving again, its head lifting as its arms pulled weakly at its restraints, its guts spilling out of its stomach moving as it shifted its weight. Freya tensed up out of fear. Jack pulled her onto her feet and immediately backed away. But it was clear the monster was trapped and couldn't escape. "Stay here" Jack told both his friends, passing the young woman to Troy so he could support her while the reaper stepped forward, approaching the creature.

The young mortal and angel stood silently as their friend walked towards the towering monstrosity, quietly praying for him to be careful. But now Jack seemed to be more confident and self-assured, walking forward with purpose. The creature groaned, belching a fresh cloud of gas out of its body. Freya coughed from the fumes, covering her mouth. Troy smelt it too, but realised something was odd about it. He recognised the smell.

Jack stepped forward, planting both his feet in the sludge, staring up at the hulking mass. He had defeated it. And now it was time to end it. Bringing up his palm, he ignited the brand into a ball of flames, fixing his gaze on the expressionless beast in front of him. "You're reign of terror ends here!" he growled.

Troy watched Jack summon a fire ball in his hand, the flames flickering around his arm igniting the sludge he was covered in creating a bright blue flame. Something clicked in his brain and he realised why he recognised the gas. "Jack, wait!" he called out to him, but he had already thrown the fireball at the creature. The fire ignited the gas expelling from its body, engulfing the monster in a burst of blue fire.

Jack fell back from the explosion as a cloud of smoke rocketed into the sky, the pool of slime catching fire around it. The three of them scrambled out of range watching the inferno. "What the hell was that?" Jack cried stumbling a few feet away from Troy.

"I think that thing was full of methane gas" he called back, watching the scrapyard get set alight. The monster melted in the centre of the blaze, vaporising into nothing.

Jack stared back throwing his arms up. "And what, you couldn't have told me that sooner?" he asked. Troy gave him a look that said " _how was I supposed to know"_. He sighed, wiping his face before realising blue flames were covering his right hand. "Oh great, now I'm on fire" he said in annoyance, shaking his arm trying to put it out.

Troy watched in bewilderment as Jack patted himself down, muttering curses to himself complaining about everything. He glanced to the angel hanging from him shoulder, who just shrugged. He looked back up at the towering inferno reaching into the sky. And then he burst out laughing.

 _I must be bloody crazy_ , he thought.


	16. Chapter 16

16

The fortress was silent, floating through the void of space, the cosmos swirling around it in a rainbow of colours. Few in creation have ever seen this structure, hidden away in the centre of the multiverse, out of phase with the rest of time and space. Those who have serve the great cosmic force watching over it, monitoring the multiverse and keeping everything in balance. The most dangerous threat any universe can face is when one dimension bleeds into another. Fortunately, the Well of Souls had enough champions and guardians to watch the borders.

Its chief guardian, the Angel of Death, had just finished halting an incursion in the icy fields of Antarctica. A host of demons were attempting to break open a portal into the mortal realm, the vanguard of a larger invasion plot. More and more entities were learning about the death of Marcus Blake and taking the opportunity to make a play for humanity's realm. It was becoming more and more overwhelming for Azrael and his wraith's to deter them. He needed the Reaper to instil fear in the rest of Hell to prevent further incursion. But Jack was inexperienced, in training and naive. He wasn't ready to be the reaper the multiverse needed. And in Azrael's opinion, unless he proves different, he would never be ready. Which left it all to him to protect the barriers between realities. It took him a couple of hours, but he managed to seal the portal and scatter the demons. He arrived back at the fortress covered in ice and snow, slumping down into the obsidian throne weary from the battle. He checked the monitors for any further threats. The map was clear, for now. But give it time and it would grow once more, and fast. They would need to be ready.

At that moment, the soul-bridge opened as a rainbow portal materialised off to the side of the observation deck. Azrael heard the tell-tale boom and rose from his seat. He assumed it was Freya finally getting back from dealing with the monster. As he stepped around to watch the new arrival enter, he was met with the overwhelming stench of sewage and sludge as both Freya and Jackson came walking into the observation deck, trailing slime in their wake. They were covered completely in the stinking gunk with displeased expressions on their faces. He crossed his arms and stood silently. "You're back then" he said bluntly. They came to a stop in from of the raised platform, looking up at him sheepishly. "What of the creature we discovered in the mortal world?" he asked the young angel.

"It's dead" she replied, wiping slime out of her eyes and trying to pull the sticky hair out of her face. She glanced over to Jack, who was just standing quietly next to her. "Jack killed it" she told him.

"We killed it" he said modestly.

Azrael looked across to the new reaper, examining his posture and state of dress. "Really?" he mused, nodding slowly. "There may be hope for you after all. What about the spirit you were both been sent after?" They both went quiet, looking away awkwardly. "So there's room for improvement" he growled, sighing in disappointment. He turned back to his throne, sitting down to monitor the realms. "Might I suggest you clean yourselves up" he said over his shoulder. "I don't want the whole fortress to become uninhabitable.

The two of them glanced at each other, their eyes scanning the sludge dripping from their bodies, their expressions scowling from the smell. Freya gestured for him to follow and led Jackson towards the nearest exit. Before they left, Azrael called out to Jack one more time. He stopped and looked back to see him look over his shoulder. "Good job kid." he said.

Jack nodded back at him, feeling a small sense of pride as he followed Freya into the corridors.

A couple of hours later, Jackson was sitting in the observation deck looking up at the stars and universes. He was dressed in a spare set of clothes he kept in his room at the fortress, which proved to be a smart piece of foresight after throwing out both sets of clothing drenched in slime. He and Freya got changed inside the large chamber with a natural waterfall, which they were able to use to shower themselves off. Jack was initially self-conscious about sharing the space with her, but it proved to be big enough for them both to keep their privacy, the rock feature sporting a total of five separate pools with its own waterfall. He didn't ask where the water came from. He just got undressed and stepped under the warm stream. He did just happen to catch a glimpse of the angelic girl in his peripheral as she pulled her top over her head, the slick fabric peeling from her white skin around her wings. He quickly averted his gaze before he could glimpse more, respecting her privacy. She tried to do the same, but would occasionally glance over to admire his physique. He finished before her, stepping out of the pool to a nearby doorway that conveniently returned him to his room, the clothes sitting on the bed. The bedroom was modest and small. The angels had offered him Marcus' old room he passed, but he felt it was a little big, over the top, and disrespectful to the dead man. Besides, he had no intention of moving in, so he just stashed a change of clothes in here and left it be for emergencies.

He was now dressed in a black t-shirt, a blue pair of jeans and grey trainers, sitting on the steps of the raised platform where Azrael's throne sat. The chair was vacant for the moment, the man gone to check the fortress defences. Jack was absently wiping the lens of his glasses, putting them back on his face to gaze up at the multiverse. Most people would've been overwhelmed at such a sight, the vastness of space making them feel small and insignificant. But Jack found it rather calming how it continued to grow and evolve before his eyes, moving like a living thing. In a way, he understood how his realm was a part of something so incredible and that made him proud. It was an honour to witness this in person.

"Is this seat taken?" Freya asked, approaching quietly.

He looked up to see her still drying her damp blonde shoulder length hair, dressed in a grey shirt and matching shorts, her bare feet patting softly on the stone floor. He shrugged, gesturing for her to join him on the steps. She sat down beside him, looking up at the cosmos with him. He stared at her, taking in her pretty face and complimenting figure. Her pendant still hung around her neck, her wings currently absent from her back. It struck him as curious. She was usually comfortable strutting around the fortress with them on display. Or maybe it was easier to clean up without them? He didn't think it was his place to ask. "How are you doing?" he asked her.

"Better" she smiled. She weaved her fingers through her wet hair examining it closely. "It still feels like I'm covered in it though. I think it'll take weeks for the smell to disappear" she added sadly.

"You smell fine to me" he said. She looked back at him raising an eyebrow. "Not that I noticed" he quickly added.

She chuckled, putting the towel down so she could address him properly. "How about you? You okay?"

"I'm fine" he told her. It didn't sound convincing. She didn't push him, but he could feel her concerned gaze on him. He wasn't sure what to say. _How do I begin?_ "Do you think I deserve to be the Grim Reaper?" he asked her.

She blinked in surprise. "Yes, I do" she said immediately. "Why would you ask me that?" He looked away, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Is this about Azrael? If he's going too hard on you, I could ask him to…"

"No, it's not about him" he explained. "Well, not entirely. I just think…I wonder why I was the one chosen to replace Marcus. I'm not anything like him. I'm not a fighter, or a warrior, or a detective or anything he was. At the first sign of trouble, I freeze up and people die. How can anyone expect me to protect them? I'm a failure."

"You're not a failure" she protested.

"You nearly died, Freya!" he argued. "And I just left you. I'm sorry. I really sorry, but I don't want you to get your hopes up thinking I can take the place of someone who was clearly more together than I am." Freya didn't have an answer to give. Instead, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Jack was caught by surprise, looking back at her asking "What was that for?"

"For saving my life" she told him. "Jack, I never wanted you to replace Marcus. I never expected you to be _like_ him. But I know the Well chose you for a reason. You may not see it yet, and I can't explain it, but I see it too. You're different. You're special."

"I left you to die" he repeated.

"You came back" she smiled. "You always came back. Remember the Vanguard? You kept me safe. And you saved me from Marchosias. I owe you my life, just like everyone else you saved that day. Like your friends when you went to help them." She took his hand in hers, squeezing it assuring. "You're a good man Jack. You're stronger than you realise. You can't see it because you can't bring yourself to believe you're capable of it. But you killed that monster like a reaper. You can do this."

He was hesitant, pulling away from her. "I don't know" he whispered. "I'm pretty sure Marcus could've done it better.

Freya's gaze wavered at the mention of his name, drifting to the ground. "I wouldn't be too sure" she muttered. Jack glanced across at her, but she had already pulled her gaze back up to his. "You shouldn't compare yourself to Marcus. You are just as powerful as he is. Why are you holding back?"

"I'm not!"

"You are. Azrael knows you are. That's why he's pushing you so hard. He's trying to get you to push back. You could do it before Derby. What changed?" she asked him.

He couldn't admit it. He tried, but he couldn't. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm not the man you think I am."

Freya felt her heart sink alongside his. "You are" she insisted, her voice quiet and encouraging. "You just haven't accepted it yet." She let out a disappointed sigh, shuffling up next to him leaning on his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll be here when you do."

Her body felt warm in Jack's arms, her presence comforting to the young reaper. They sat side by side looking up at the multiverse, losing themselves in its abyss. Jack's thoughts fell into the last few days, wondering if any of what Freya said could be true. He wasn't so sure. But knowing there was at least one person who believed in him made him feel better.


	17. Chapter 17

17

Jack took the long way home, leaving via the main exit and stepping through a portal into the centre of town, phasing out of Limbo into the mortal realm where he started walking. He left the fortress before Azrael returned from his patrol, avoiding another training session. He needed time to recover from his battle with the monster, tired and exhausted. It took him an hour to cross the distance back to his house, which was fine because he used the time to think about leaving.

He wasn't ready as the champion. Today he saved Freya, but dozens of innocent people died. Tomorrow he might not be so lucky. Even Troy was close to being murdered. Maybe it would be better for everyone if he quit. Just leave the Well of Souls and let them find a replacement. _How hard could it be to find someone more up to the job?_ He got home and paused outside the front door. He pondered what he was going to say when he got in. He had been gone for hours without telling them he where he was. _He could just say he was paying Troy a visit. It wouldn't be a complete lie. He could just go upstairs, fall onto his bed and live out the rest of his life in peace._

That was the moment Troy called him on his mobile. Turning away from the front door, Jack sat on the wall overlooking his street in front of his building before answering. "Jack! You okay?" Troy's voice asked immediately.

"I'm fine" he replied. It felt good to hear his friend's voice. "What about you? You holding up alright?"

He could sense his friend's hesitation across the line. After the fight with the monster in the scrapyard, Troy had left him and Freya to clean up their mess. He said he needed to process everything, and maybe get drunk. The fire ball Jack had unleashed on the creature had burned away most of its remains, leaving a large puddle of sludge. There was no way they were clearing it up, but there was nothing to indicate a supernatural presence left, so the two of them left through a soul-bridge.

"I'll admit" Troy said after a long pause, "I think I'm going to need a lot more alcohol after today. I'm just calling to make sure everything is okay on your end."

"You mean if there are any more monsters you have to worry about? Or are you making sure that what happened actually happened and we aren't both crazy?"

Troy sighed. "I deserved that. I'm sorry I doubted you mate."

"No, I didn't expect you to believe me" he replied calmly. "I'm sorry I got you dragged into all of this in the first place."

"Hey, in all honesty, this was the most excitement I've seen all summer" he laughed. "But next time, maybe call ahead." Jack chuckled nodding, even though Troy couldn't see him. There was a pause until Troy cautiously asked "So, do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"What happened out there" he said.

He released a slow breath, nervously tapping his knee. "Where would I begin?" he muttered.

He had a feeling Troy just shrugged. "What's it like being the Grim Reaper?" he asked curiously.

Jack sighed painfully. "Wrong" he answered. "I don't think I'm up for this job."

"Really?" his voice sounded surprised. "You looked perfect for it from where I was standing."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I almost got you killed" he argued.

"And yet you saved the girl" he told him. "And you killed the monster. And you looked like a badass doing it. It might've been terrifying, but it was also awesome." There was a brief pause. "You know what I think? I think you're worried about screwing it up."

"Of course I am!" he snapped. "Because I am a screw up!"

"Jack, you were always the top of our class at school. Well, almost top. Laura always managed to pip you in smarts didn't she? But you are always more compassionate, helpful and considerate. Always helping everyone and expecting nothing in return." Troy chuckled quietly. "I'll let you in on a secret Jack. I always envied you and the way you looked after everyone, including me, during that time. It wasn't a lot, and you got hell for it, but you were like a white knight in training. You always do the right thing. And you never backed down."

"Is there a point to this?" Jack interrupted.

"Yeah, there is. You were made for this. I won't pretend to know what this new job entails, but if it involves saving the day and beating up bad guys, you are perfect."

Jack was still sceptical. "I'm no superhero" he said.

"Not yet" Troy replied. "You're still dealing with PTSD from your last adventure. Which is understandable, really. But once you've dealt with that, you can start training to become a real powerhouse."

"I'm not that powerful."

"You have magic and immortality! You can't get any more overpowered!"

Jack felt his shoulders sag. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

He could imagine Troy rolling his eyes. "You can do this Jack. I've seen you do it. I know you can pull this off. All you have to do is pull your head out of your ass and stop searching for excuses. You can't walk away from this. It's too important a responsibility." There was a long pause, letting Jack reflect on his best friend's words. "You are a hero now Jack" Troy told him. "You saved the world. Twice, if you really were there in Derby. And you saved me. So I owe you."

"No" Jack told him. "You don't owe me anything Troy."

He heard him chuckle. "I rest my case."

Jack's reaction was one of reluctant pride. _Troy Anderson, always there to set me straight._ "Thanks mate" he said hopping off his wall. "I have to go now. I'm sure my parents noticed I was gone by now."

"Are you going to tell them about all of this?" he asked.

"Hell no" he laughed. "If I am going to pretend to be a superhero, I'll need a secret identity."

Their laugh echoed through the mobile before Jack said his goodbyes and hung up. He slipped the phone back into his pocket, walking towards the front door. As his hand reached in he found something else in his jeans pocket, pulling out a small card with embossed writing. He read the name and phone number of the therapist he'd been offered when he discharged himself from hospital. The same therapist his parents thought he was visiting each week.

 _Maybe I do need a little help,_ he thought.

He walked indoors and found his family scattered between the three rooms on the ground floor. "There you are" his mum said, seeing him enter the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready in five minutes."

"Where'd you disappear to?" his dad asked from the table.

"Just went for a walk" he answered, the excuse falling effortlessly from his mouth.

Both his parents nodded, but they also looked up and narrowed their gaze. "Everything alright?" his mom asked him, a hint of concern in her voice. Maybe she could see something was off.

"Just… Just been a long day" he said, forcing a smile on his expression. "I'm fine." That seemed to satisfy her, leaving him to walk into the living room and sit down beside his brother David. The TV was on and the PlayStation was booted up, a knight dressed in black armour hacking at a monster trice its size. "Never got this game" he muttered, watching the red text materialise across the screen as the player fell to his knees in defeat.

"That's because you give up to easily" David remarked, respawning his character and heading back to the boss fight. "These things are designed to be difficult, but they can be beaten."

"After dying over a hundred times?" he asked sceptically.

"Benefit of being a video game character. You're virtually immortal. You keep coming back, learning its moves and getting stronger."

The statement rang a chord in Jack's skull, making him turn sharply looking at his brother. David didn't react, focusing on the video game. Jack reflected on the statement, realising he'd found the answer to a question he asked someone else a while ago.

The next day, Azrael was waiting in the training room for the young man to arrive, standing silently in the centre of the room with his hands on the pommel of his sword. "How long do you wait here?" Jack asked him when he approached. "An hour? All night?"

"You're late" he growled, gesturing once more to the rack of weapons. Marcus's scythe, once more, sat at the top of the pile drawing Jackson's eye. He ignored it, picking up the familiar silver sword. Azrael sighed in disappointment but didn't object. "Begin" he said.

Jack took his place in the centre of the room. He barely got a breath before the Angel of Death was swinging at him. He deflected the blow but left himself open to a kick in the side, knocking him down. "Again" Azrael said bluntly, waiting for Jack to pick himself up and lunge at him. He parried him, flipped him over his hip and sent him tumbling to the floor. "Again" he repeated while Freya appeared at the doorway to the training room, watching quietly and nervously.

The cycle repeated, just as all days before. They fought, Jack fell, Azrael ordered him up, rinse and repeat. The session lasted over an hour, finishing with Jackson landing hard onto his shoulder covered in bruises and scrapes. His breathing was laboured, his chest hurt, his arm ached and legs were tired. Azrael never let up. Not even as Jack started using his hellfire more and more. The longest he stayed upright was two minutes 56 seconds. A new personal best. Freya was hesitant to intervene, unsettled at how broken and defeated Jack looked.

"Pathetic" Azrael growled turning his back on the boy. "Go home boy" he said coldly. "We'll pick this up again tomorrow. Maybe next time you can…"

He was interrupted by a rock being thrown at the back of his head. The large man froze, a wave of shock filling his mind as he turned to look behind him. His gaze automatically fell onto Freya by the entrance, but she shook her head innocently glancing at the real culprit. Azrael turned around to find Jackson back on his feet, his gaze staring back at him pointing his sword at the man. "I don't care if it takes all week, or all eternity" he said determined. "I will kick your ass." He took the sword in both hands, planting his feet firmly, squaring his shoulders, before announcing "Again."

Azrael shared a look with the young angel, who was beaming with pride looking back at him. The dark skinned man flexed his shoulders, brandishing his weapon before him ready to continue. As they faced each other, the warrior smiled. "There's hope for you yet kid" he said, nodding in approval.


	18. Chapter 18

18

It had been almost 48 hours since Jackson visited Troy Anderson's house covered in blood and guts and sludge. It had been a wild and crazy day following that moment he opened the door. He learnt his best friend not only survived the accident in Derby, but he also became the Grim Reaper and is now the protector of the mortal world. It was a lot to take in, but Troy was getting through with a lot of alcohol. He was glad when it was all over. A part of him would've preferred not to know altogether, but he was glad Jack told him. He was happy to know he was okay.

He was currently sitting in a bar situated in the centre of town, an aging building where the sign read _The Harrow_. This establishment had been around for a couple of decades, being passed from one owner to the next over the years, but ultimately remaining the same club and bar in that time. It wasn't Troy's usual drinking hole, but he was invited and now waiting for someone. His friend finally arrived and sat down on the stool next to him. He was dressed in a pair of grey jeans, black boots, a grey t-shirt and dark hoodie. He appeared much more comfortable in this attire, even placing a wide brimmed hat on the counter in front of him. They say the clothes make the man. In Jack's case, it's what makes his confidence.

Troy noticed a clear change in his demeanour. He was holding himself up more strongly compared to the nervous young man previously sitting at his table. "I didn't keep you waiting long did I?" he asked him, leaning on the counter quietly ordering half a pint of cider.

"Not really" Troy answered, taking a sip of his pint. He examined him out the corner of his eye. "You look better" he commented.

"I feel better" he nodded.

"What changed?"

He shrugged. "Nothing, really. I just decided to stop worrying about what ifs and buts. Whether I like it or not, I was chosen for this position. I won't pretend to understand why, but I have a responsibility to the rest of reality. I can't give up. Otherwise I'll let down everyone who believes in me."

Troy smiled clapping him on the shoulder. "Sounds like a solid plan." They sat together for a while sharing a drink. After a few minutes, Troy asked "So, you and Freya… Are you two..?"

"Are we what?" he asked innocently. When he raised an eyebrow, Jack scoffed defensively. "What? No! No, we're just friends. That's it, okay."

"Okay, okay" Troy replied laughing. "I just wondered. I mean… She is cute."

"Hadn't noticed" Jack answered averting his gaze. Troy wasn't fooled. Even Jackson had to have noticed how attractive Freya was. And an angel to boot. But it made no difference to him. Jack always seemed to draw in the best looking people but remain oblivious to the attention. It was like that through school, he just never noticed. Or didn't want to notice.

"So what happens now?" Troy asked, setting his drink down. "What was that creature in that scrapyard? Some sort of demon?"

"Actually, it wasn't" Jack told him. "Demons would've been flagged by the Well of Souls the moment they stepped foot into this realm. But this monster went completely under our radar, to the point we needed a minor spirit to show us where it was. Azrael thinks, whatever it was, it was man-made and originated within this realm."

Troy snapped his head around to look at him. "You mean _we_ made it" gesturing to humanity in general. "How is that possible?"

"It's more common than you might think" Jack explained. "Humanity has a lot of potential at their fingertips. We are just as capable of operating beyond our capacity, performing magic and opening portals, or creating our own monsters. It's why the Grim Reaper has always been a mortal. We are more powerful than we think, potentially. It's why Heaven and Hell are always fighting over us."

"That's a chilling thought" Troy mumbled. "So who made this particular monster?"

"We don't know" Jack replied. "We may never know. Let's just be thankful it's gone and the world is safe."

The two of them fell into silence, quietly reflecting on the revelations of the past few days, sipping their drinks. Around them, people went about their day unaware of the danger they had been in. "You should really go see that therapist" Troy said out of the blue. "It might sound stupid, but whatever you're dealing with from the accident, they might help."

"I know" was all he said in response. He decided not to disclose that he'd already called the number on the card and made an appointment. "By the way, what happened to your police back up?" he asked in return.

Troy shrugged. He was just as confused. They'd been listening in the whole time, yet when the monster attacked and he called for their help they were nowhere in sight. He tried calling the police again a few hours later, but the woman on the other end claimed he'd never made the call. _Something wasn't right about this_ , he thought.

A few more minutes passed and Troy finally got around to asking "Why did you want us to meet here?"

Jack looked around and shrugged. "Why not?"

"You don't drink" he pointed out, pointing to the cider he'd barely touched. "And you were never a fan of pubs and bars. And this isn't our usual haunt. Besides…" he looked around the room, "There's something off about this place."

"Off?" Jack queried, glancing around the area. "Like what?" he asked.

Troy couldn't put his finger on it. Ever since he walked into this building there'd been a chill in the air, making his spine shiver. Something was wrong in here. He was about to say it was nothing and ignore it when he noticed Jack's palm was glowing, the brand in his skin flickering with orange light. He looked up at his friend and realised his attention was somewhere else, looking over his shoulder to a group of men and women gathered by the toilets. They watched as each of them suddenly shivered, one after another, like a gust of cold wind had passed through them like a cloud. "Why are we here, Jack?" Tory asked, this time with greater suspicion.

"Unfinished business" he replied, slipping off his stool onto the ground. "I'll be right back" he said, putting on his hat and walking forward, vanishing into thin air before Troy's very eyes.

He looked around the room frantically, but nobody else had noticed Jack's disappearing act. Putting his faith in his friend, he turned back to the bar and picked up his drink, musing over the last few days and how it may never be the same again.

Meanwhile, in the toilets, a translucent figure drifted aimlessly through the air. The ghost couldn't be seen by the mortals in the bar as it sat out of phase with this reality, passing harmlessly through matter. With no supernatural entity drawing it, the spirit was left to float mindlessly on its own, bothering no one. It could've remained as such, casually haunting random buildings and places, had the gatekeeper not made it his mission to find it and complete a mission he'd so far been unsuccessful in accomplishing.

The ghost sensed a disturbance moments before the hand reached out from Limbo, catching it unawares and completely by surprise, before yanking the spirit through the barrier back into its native dimension. The lights in the bar flickered as reality rippled around the phasing entities, but ultimately returned to normal silence as Jackson released the spirit back into Limbo, tipping his hat in satisfied relief at a job well done.

***

In another part of town, cloaked in shadow as the sun was blocked by the drawn curtains, a shadowy figure walked over to a small alcove hidden beneath the floorboards of the dark room. Reaching inside, they retrieved an item wrapped in blankets, carrying it over to a desk, cradling it like a treasured possession. After carefully unwrapping the blankets, the figure gazed down upon the grimy, disturbing image embroiled upon the cover of a tattered and worn book, it's faded brown pages crumbling under the faintest touch, the leather binder holding the delicate object together. But this was no ordinary book, as the image of a horrified face gazed back at the figure, its expression forever frozen in fear as its wordless scream echoed around the empty room.

The figure cracked a sickening smile as he slowly opened the book, his excited gaze drifting over the pages covered in blood red ink, indulging in the dark secrets they contained.

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.patreon.com/PWPresents
> 
> Next Time:  
> Playing with Fire


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